For Sonnets and Harmony

by The Wizard of Words

Rating: everyone
Tags: DJ P0N-3, Princess Luna, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Octavia, Comedy, Other, Romance, Adventure
Length: 143092

There are ponies that are born great. There are ponies that achieve great things. Then there are ponies who have greatness thrust upon them. The only question for them, is what great things will they do?

Octavia was always one for planning ahead. Whether it be dinner that night or her career years away, she always had an idea of how to get there. The right amount of practice, the proper performance to the right pony, and she could see her life progressing exactly as it should.

However, suddenly turning into an alicorn kind of put a damper on her plans.

Story thirteen in my Twidash Challenge: Secondary Pairing (Quite Obviously)

Published 2014-06-10 13:50:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-07 15:45:49 UTC

The Motif

Author's Note

Wow. I… I didn’t expect to get so many upvotes and so few downvotes. Like, I’m nervous about writing this chapter now. Usually when this happens, people have different expectations for what will happen, and disappointing them usually results in a downvote. That’s bad.

Well… since it’s physically impossible to appeal to all crowds, I can only hope that what you read below matches your perceived ideas of the story.

What I CAN promise, however, is that this is the first story that will include a voting section. What does that mean? It means that at the conclusion of this chapter, you pick where it goes next! I will list four options, and you get to vote on where it should go from there. The story will develop differently based upon the choices made.

Cheers and enjoy!

The Motif

Luna was at a loss for words. That was not a feeling she was accustomed to having.

She stared, eyes wide and disbelieving, the young Octavia before her. It was by no means an easy feat to render one of the princesses of Canterlot speechless, but this pony had succeeded in doing so by simply revealing herself.

The nightly diarch eyed the gray mare, tracing her body for what felt like the umpteenth time. She saw the tall figure, reaching just barely beneath her own head. She saw the sharp horn, jutting out to an impressive length by normal standards. She saw the wings, unfolded yet wide at the mare’s sides. Luna saw something else, however. Something far more subtle than any other aspect of the mare’s body.

Octavia’s lips were twitching. Her gaze was downcast. Her breath was shallow. She was either nervous or terrified. Neither would do, not in her court.

“Please, be at ease.” Luna spoke her words with careful construction, wary of the new alicorn before her. Alicorn… it sounded out heavily even in the recesses of her mind.

This pony, Octavia, paid the princess only modest attention. Her breaths became deeper, perhaps in an attempt to control her visibly stiffening muscles. It didn’t work.

The other mare in the room, so-named unicorn Vinyl Scratch, recognized the signs as well. With a cheerful grin, she raised one of her alabaster hooves, lightly tapping at Octavia’s side. The flinch the cellist made at the contact was easily visible.

“Seriously, Octy, relax a little,” Vinyl spoke in a highly casual tone. Whether it was intentional or not, Octavia did adopt a new expression, though Luna would hardly describe it as relaxed. No, now she saw narrowed eyes and puckered lips. It was much more like a pout. She didn’t know how to take that.

“Vinyl, I recognize that… that this a highly unusual time, but…” Her gaze returned to Luna. She quickly averted her eyes again as she did so. It had taken Luna quite some time to see respect and not disgust in the action. She preferred mannerisms with a little more etiquette, but recognizing the absence of fear was enough for now.

“But nothin’!” Vinyl had an impish look on her face when she tapped Octavia’s side again. Luna blinked in confusion. The unicorn turned her gaze towards the princess.

“Look. Your highness, Princess Luna, whatever you prefer.” Luna felt her brows tighten at the unrefined words the glasses-wearing mare was throwing. There was relaxed and comfortable, and then there was simply rude.

“Octavia’s not really the best mare for stepping outside her comfort zone. I’ve known that about her since day one. So… this,” she waved her hoof about the wings and horn. The glare the gray alicorn gave her friend was more than enough indication to show the action was not appreciated. “This is right next to worst case scenario for her.”

Luna glared at the unicorn coldly, her wings rising to full height. Though she appreciated the information - as any to all was needed at this point - she did not appreciate the lack of manners. It reminded her too much of ponies that saw her as a secondary princess.

“Ah…” Vinyl spoke dumbly upon seeing the dark alicorn’s stare. Luna wisely hid her grin. “Um, sorry if I sounded… rude? Yeah, rude.” Her head turned downwards, a near universal sign of apology. Luna took a slow breath of air to calm herself upon seeing the action. At least the DJ wasn't completely oblivious.

She took another small moment to judge the situation once more. Even with a newly introduced alicorn in front of her, the unicorn appeared to be far more in control of the situation. Her guidance over Octavia was clear as Celestia’s sun, the gray alicorn’s begrudging acceptance to Vinyl’s words showed that it was a dance the two participated in often.

It was impossible to judge for now, but Luna reminded herself to keep an eye on both alicorn and unicorn. Though one deserved far more attention than the other, it was unlikely she would gain the cooperation of one without the other.

“It is forgiven,” Luna spoke to the unicorn, the smallest of grins on her muzzle despite the situation. She nodded simply before turning back to the gray alicorn. She had had plenty of time, but Luna still could not believe her own eyes. “Octavia, I can understand your fear, for even I am lost for words. But be at peace, I am only… confused.” In truth, there were no other words Luna could think to say. “Confused” just summed up everything she felt.

The mare gave the taller alicorn a gaze caught between tentative and uneasy. Her head was still bowed, doubtlessly from the decorum of being in the presence of royalty. The cellist did look well groomed, even without the newfound… alicornhood. There were no tears in her eyes, but they were wide and cautious, a look that Luna knew only too well. Specifically, she recalled many scared ponies giving her such a look the first time she had appeared since her banishment. She did not enjoy the gaze.

Fortunately, Luna had friends that had taught her what to do. She should not make demands or declare her law. No, instead, she replicated what her sister might have done.

She smiled a warm and welcoming smile.

The small blinking of Octavia’s eyes was all Luna needed to see to know that she had done the right thing. The mare’s mouth hung open slightly, either awed or surprised by the display. Either was far preferable to fear or terror.

“As I said, young Octavia,” Luna began, her tone as warm as her smile. “There is no reason to be afraid. I will help; this I promise you. So, please, will you allow me to help you?” A small moment of silence passed between the group, broken only by the light breathing of the mares present.

“I… do need help, your highness. Can… May I have your help?” Octavia spoke with as much confidence as her quivering core would allow. Meeting royalty was not supposed to happen for another year or two, when she had finished her rhapsody. This was ahead of schedule, and not for a reason she was particularly glad for. Princess Luna, however, smiled upon her no differently than the gray alicorn had imagined she would. Octavia only wished it was because she had enjoyed her music.

“Indeed you may,” Luna kindly answered the smaller alicorn. Realizing her wings were still extended from her earlier interaction with Vinyl Scratch, the Night Princess folded them back against her side. It reduced her stature from intimidating to regal. Octavia glanced back at her own wings with a bit lip, attempting to maneuver them herself. The most she managed was some crinkling and soft bending. Luna raised her brow, momentarily confused.

“Here, let me help ya with that.” Vinyl didn’t leave room for Octavia to voice a complaint. She rarely ever did. No sooner did the unicorn speak then she put her hooves against the outer edges of the gray wings. Octavia felt a blush run through her cheeks.

Leaning forwards, Vinyl pressed her weight onto the feathery appendages. The stiff muscles fought against it, but slowly, the wings folded back against the new alicorn’s body. Unlike the elegant folding of Luna’s wings, however, Octavia’s was far… rougher. That didn’t seem to bother Vinyl in the slightest.

“There,” the DJ spoke with her usual grin. “That oughta do it. No need to thank me.”

“Between the late nights you tend to keep and your penchant to destroy objects not bolted to the floor, I’d say you are the one who owes me.” The grin vanished from the unicorn’s face, replaced by a scrunched muzzle instead. Luna could only suppose that narrow eyes sat behind those dark lavender lenses.

“C’mon, that’s not cool. At least I paid you back for everything I broke, right?” Luna did not miss the small coy smile that settled over Octavia’s lips. Whatever the relationship between the two, it was clearly of a deeper nature than mere acquaintances. They spoke as if they were sisters.

As amusing as the display was, however, Luna could not forget the far more important matter before her. Clearing her throat, the princess almost immediately got the attention of the two before her.

“I see you lack the knowledge of how to control your wings.” It was not a callous comment, merely an observation the alicorn did not wish to overlook. Though she needed little confirmation, it did support the story that this sudden transformation was recent, and likely unintentional. “May I assume you have only minor control of your magic?”

“I, um…” Octavia stopped herself, likely in search of the right words to say. Magic was often a tricky matter to describe. It didn’t help that the mare had only just obtained the means to use it. “I have once already, but… I do not have confidence in the matter.”

“She made a pillow float,” Vinyl, if Luna had to name one good part about her, did not share of Octavia’s hesitation. “It was all gray and stuff, but I don’t think she really wanted to make it float. I mean, it only happened after she hid herself underneath it.”

The incessant bluntness of the unicorn aside, the information was useful to the dark alicorn. It was common for most foals to express some amount of magic, especially in their early infancy. While Octavia was clearly beyond such an age, she was technically a “newborn” alicorn. At such a stage, thoughts made acts of magic happen more frequently than concentration. It was curious to see how a mare in her prime handled such a thing.

“I assume you have not attempted magic since then?” The questioned was posed to Octavia, who quickly shook her head.

“No, your majesty,” she swiftly answered. “I did not want to attempt to use, well, either of my… new additions.” There were many reasons Luna could have assumed such a desire, but in the end none mattered. She had not attempted magic, and therefore, attempts were needing to be made.

“Very well,” Luna responded simply. “Hold here for but a moment. I will return shortly.” Before either Octavia or Vinyl could respond, Luna began to trot down the grand hall. The sound of her hooves clopping upon the floor echoed about the stone room. She could faintly make out whispering from the mares behind her. She had no doubt said whispers were curiosities about what she was going to do.

It took the dark alicorn little time to reach the hall’s end. They were shut, firmly at that, by her orders. Raising one of her crystal hooves, she knocked twice. Only a moment later did they open, revealing one of her royal guards. He saluted at the sight of her.

“Captain,” Luna spoke the guard’s title with a commanding tone, far firmer than the soft words she had spoken to Octavia. “Please see my remaining guests out. I will be attending to a matter in private for the remainder of the night.” The guard bowed once before speaking.

“As you command, your highness.” He trotted away without another word. Luna nodded, shutting door with a wave of her horn. It took only a second longer before she was trotting back to the mares in her court.

From across the hall, she could see Vinyl whispering something to Octavia, that odd grin upon her muzzle as she spoke. Her hoof lightly poked the gray alicorn’s side as she did so. Luna wasn’t sure what the subject of the conversation was, but it must have been something of some importance to Octavia, for no sooner did Vinyl’s lips stop moving than did Octavia give her friend a heated look. Were it not for having already heard their names, Luna would have sworn them from the same litter.

“Please follow me,” Luna lightly spoke to the pair, guiding them towards a spare hallway with her head. The alicorn turned, beginning to lead the way, the clopping of hooves following behind her.

“Um, your majesty, if I may ask, what of your other court seekers?” Octavia voiced from behind Luna. The Princess was quick to answer.

“I have given instructions to my guards to see them out. They will be given another time to converse with me.” Though Luna hardly knew the mare, she could already tell without checking that Octavia was uneasy about the sudden favoritism. “Worry not of them. If their problem was of any true urgency, they would not have made a meeting at my latest hour.”

They stopped momentarily, a door blocking their path. Luna gave a small whisk and flick of her horn, lighting the wooden barricade and swinging it open. It made hardly a sound against its hinges. Beyond the door, a new hallway could be seen. It was not nearly as extravagant or large, but still lacked nothing in detail.

A red carpet was draped upon the ground, a hard-yet-pleasant contrast with the gray stone of the halls. It stretched along the length of the passageway. Few windows could be seen along the halls, as it was mostly illuminated by chandeliers. They did not hang high over the hall, but they gave enough room to allow passage to a mare as tall as Luna. Octavia would wager Celestia could manage fairly easily in here as well.

But unlike the great hall from before, this hall had decoration aside from the chandeliers. Elegantly carved wooden cabinets were placed along the walls. Small busts and floral decorations stood atop the oak furniture, each carved in the shape of some historical figure Octavia couldn’t name. She didn’t even think to ask Vinyl. Something else still plagued her mind.

“Is… Is this alright?” Octavia asked tentatively. She asked the question with an earnest effort to control her wings. She did not want to knock over a priceless artifact. Though the party of ponies kept moving, Luna looked back towards her. “I mean, I understand the importance of this matter - clearly I do. But is it appropriate to simply dismiss those who have been waiting for you for so long?”

“Do not worry about them,” Luna instructed with a gentle tone. “My guards will deal with them as is appropriate.”

“This is preposterous!” A noble pony cried, interrupting his escort to the door. “I have been waiting for the princess all night!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but Princess Luna has requested all her meetings for the rest of the night to be dismissed.” The guard escorting the noble from the room didn’t dare make eye contact with the pony. He was afraid the noble would notice his snarl of distaste. “You have been given first council with the princess in one week’s time.”

“B-But I prepared weeks ahead for this! What could possibly be more important than me?!” The guard bit back the obvious taunt waiting at the edge of his lip. He chose instead to adjust the wings on his back as he shooed the noble out the door.

“Please come back at the time we specified. Have a nice day, sir.”

“Okay, ah, then… As long as it is appropriate.” Octavia spoke to the princess politely as she could, falling behind the dark alicorn. The new alicorn followed respectfully behind the princess.

“Whoa,” the unicorn broke the silence, awed by a particularly decorative set of armor. It was far more detailed than any properly armed forces would allow. “Hey, Octy, you think I could ask the princess for one of those? I could call myself the Iron Mare during my gigs.” The new alicorn didn’t have to look to see the cheeky grin her friend was wearing.

“I would be remiss to ask the princess for anything right now.” Octavia’s voice bordered on a hiss, kept away only by the teachings of etiquette. “Can you please act appropriately for the remainder of the time we are here?” Vinyl gave her friend a look of utter confusion.

“What do ya mean? I’m on my best behavior!” Octavia stared at her friend disbelievingly. There was only sincerity in the unicorn’s expression. “Here, watch this.”

By the time Octavia had processed the unicorn’s words, Vinyl was already passing the gray alicorn to trot just behind Luna. Octavia felt her limbs, wings included, shiver. A sinking sensation in her stomach soon followed.

“Um, excuse me, your highness?” Vinyl spoke the introduction as a question, clearly unused to the words. Princess Luna turned to the unicorn with a raised brow. “I wanted to ask you a question, if you’re cool with it.” It was only because Octavia was still trotting that her hoof did not immediately connect with her forehead.

“… You may,” Luna responded cautiously. “It is… cool.” Vinyl gave a cheeky grin large enough to each and every one of her teeth. Octavia knew the unicorn long enough to adopt an appropriate sense of dread at seeing that expression.

“Sweet. So, I’ve been wondering ‘bout something for a while now.” Octavia felt her stomach fall as the unicorn spoke on. “When you were sent to the moon, were you like trapped on it. Or, like, were you inside it?”

Anatomy was the only thing keeping Octavia’s jaw from hitting floor. Luna found herself much the same.

Vinyl’s question permeated the hall with a deathly silence. Both alicorns had wide eyes upon the young DJ, who was smiling in turn, trapped in blissful unawareness.

Luna’s wide eyes were matched only by her vacant jaw, moving up and down dumbly in the hopes of forming a sentence at some point in time. Every so often it closed, trying to recover, only to open once more.

Octavia felt her already-cold body freeze when the alicorn did recover. The kind and empathetic gaze she was offered upon her grand reveal was gone, replaced with a cold stare that foreboded undesirable consequences. Vinyl’s blissfulness seemed to seep away beneath the stare.

“Vinyl Scratch,” Luna spoke the unicorn’s name with nothing but malice. “I know not nor care not why you have posed such a question to me. The reasoning for it is meaningless.” Octavia was speechless. It was Vinyl’s rare silence, however, that truly terrified the gray mare.

“You have been invited into the halls of this castle by my will, done so because of the extraordinary circumstances surrounding your friend, who has truly been appropriate in all her mannerisms.” Octavia wasn’t sure how complimented she could feel, given that the praise was spoken coldly, and towards Vinyl.

“Do not assume such to mean you can pose questions as despicable and intolerable as the one you have dared to utter.” Luna’s wings slowly unfolded with her words, taking up more and more of the hall. The dark blades of feathers soon reaching across the stone passage. Octavia felt herself shrink. Vinyl appeared to be frozen, as if petrified.

“Be wary that you are reaching the thresholds of my tolerance, and I will not allow you passage in these halls if you continue to speak in such a way.” The dark alicorn stood above the mare, looking down at her with a cold gaze.

It was then that Vinyl found her voice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” The unicorn rapid-fired the words and back pedaled with great speed. It took but a moment for her to be far behind Octavia. “Your highness, your majesty, your royalness, all those things, I seriously didn’t mean to offend you! I mean, like, I didn’t think it was a bad question. Honest!” When Luna’s cold gaze remained unchanged, the unicorn adopted a different tactic.

“Look, I’m sorry, seriously sorry.” Vinyl bowed her head as she spoke. “It’s not like I came here to just make you mad. I talk to Octy like that all the time!”

Though this was the very definition of being thrown into the spotlight, Octavia could not let her friend be subject to whatever the potential consequences were. Vinyl had good intentions, just poor execution. Besides, rent was hard to pay alone.

“In her defense, your majesty Luna,” Octavia began, lowering herself to the floor with eyes shut in submission. “She does speak as such to all around, myself included. I believe she was more hoping to become your friend than adversary.”

Though her words rang with confidence, her form did anything but. Octavia’s wings shook against her sides, terrified of what Luna might do to the pair. However, her fears were unnecessary. Slowly, the elder alicorn’s wings receded against her side, her gaze softening. Her lips remained upturned, however, maintaining her careful poise.

“I see,” Luna began with a softer tone. “I apologize for my cold words. But be aware, young Vinyl Scratch, that the matter you callously spoke of is one I do not wish to relive. Speak little of it, and we may yet find common ground. Is this clear to you?” Vinyl nodded her head hard enough to almost dislodge her glasses.

“Yeah, crystal. No problem at all!” Her half-enthusiastic, half-terrified response appeared to be enough to appease Princess Luna. The alicorn smiled slightly, nodding her head towards the pair.

“Good. Now then,” she spoke with a turn, “let us continue on. It is not much further.” The alicorn began to move again, not casting back a second glance as she moved down the hall. Octavia released a breath of air she wasn’t aware she was holding. She heard another being released beside her.

“Okay, you were right,” Vinyl admitted to her newly transformed friend. “I may need a lesson or two. That, or a gurney.” While dismissive of the cold joke, Octavia was at the very least glad to hear her friend’s change of heart. Small changes were often the most important.

The remainder of the journey was spent in an absolute silence, one that Octavia wished for all her heart could have been comfortably broken. She would have far preferred the blaring of a night club’s speakers than to the deafening hollow ring of the hall.

Luna walked ahead of Octavia and Vinyl with a great stride, one that required the two to step up their pace to match. The cellist reminded herself to scold Vinyl each night for the next year.

Said unicorn, however, appeared to already be forgetting her own daring question. Her head swayed left and right, directing her eyes towards more and more interesting pieces of art. Every so often, Octavia heard the mare whisper about how “cool” something would look on a set, or how “awesome” it would be have it on a rave strobe.

It was to the Octavia’s great relief when they stopped once more, this time before a new door. It was not as large as the great wooden barriers in the main hall, nor was it as meticulously detailed, but the gray alicorn could call it nothing short of marvelous.

It was golden in color, outlined with stripes of white and purple. They were three colors Octavia had associated with regality since her foalhood. They swirled amongst one another, never blending but neither clashing. Instead, it mixed together in a purely harmonious manner. It warmly reminded her of the motif in Bahm’s thirteen seven prelude, where the cellos would lift up the high chorus of the violins. It almost always made the audience shiver with delight. Even Vinyl was completely silent.

It made Octavia ask a simple, but necessary, question. Just what was beyond this door? Could it be some grand artifact that would reveal the mystery of her transformation? Perhaps a collection of history books where they may find the secret to this mess? Whatever it was, she was prepared for it. Luna answered the unspoken question without hesitation.

“These are my sister’s chambers. We can converse with her in here.” Octavia was absolutely wrong before. There existed no metaphor to properly describe the magnitude of what the dark alicorn had said. They were about to enter the bedroom of the most powerful alicorn in all of Equestria, likely all time. Nothing could compare.

Luna must have noticed the shock upon Octavia’s features, as her brow rose and her lips moved to voice her concern.

“Are you well, young Octavia?” The princess questioned sincerely. The smaller alicorn needed to swallow on the saliva pooling in her open jaw before she could respond.

“Y-Yes! I… I-I just presumed we were meeting in a… a small room, perhaps. Not your sister’s bedroom.” In truth, Octavia wanted to shout, but her dutiful raising had taught her many reasons why yelling at Luna would be seen as inappropriate. Said pony being one of the Princesses of Equestria did carry a significant amount of weight.

“This is most likely the safest location to discuss this matter. No guards make rounds within this room, and my sister is among the most understanding and empathic mares to ever grace the land. You needn’t be wary.” There were no falsehoods in the words of the alicorn, but Octavia suspected she didn’t quite understand the problem at hand. Fortunately or not, Vinyl was able to voice said concern.

“I think what Octavia is really nervous about is waking up one of the rulers of Equestria in her bedroom. I mean, Octy here was raised since she was a foal to not disturb a sleeping mare. Kinda learned that one the hard way since I met her.” Octavia remembered well the limp Vinyl had had the morning after. She had no guilt regarding the affair. Vinyl should have known better than to wake her with blaring speakers in the wean hours of the night.

“Your concern is valid, but for now unneeded. Celestia and I share an agreement that should an important matter has come to pass, one is required to wake the other.” Octavia watched carefully as the princess drew in a slow breath of air.

“That happened with the whole Tirek thing, didn’t it?” Vinyl was as kind with her words as she could have been, but it still sounded as if she were throwing mud. Luna took it in stride.

“Indeed.” The princess wasted no more time for the matter, instead turning towards the door and alighting her horn with magic. The chamber doors were instantly imbued with the same glow, shimmering as a low ring filled the hall. With but a small flick of her head, they opened to the trio.

The room was dark, as both Vinyl and Octavia expected. Just as much they expected the elegant and lavish detail through it. Though it was hard to see most of it in the darkness, they could clearly see the many dozens of pillows scattered throughout the room, the bedroom window large enough to qualify as a doorway, the tall ceiling painted with a lavish mural, and, of course, the impressive bed at the far end of the room.

Though the light was low, they could clearly see the four posts of the bed extending upwards to hold together a large piece of silk that sat above the covers. It was enormous, being so large it easily would have taken up Octavia’s bedroom. Despite this, what truly captivated the mares was the slow rise and fall of the bed sheets.

Before either Vinyl or Octavia could move forwards, Luna began to walk towards the bed. Despite the personal space they found themselves in, her movement kept all of the elegance she had shown thus far. She reached her sister’s bedside in the length of time it would have taken Octavia to walk her entire home.

It was difficult to see in the darkness, a fact not aided by Luna’s dark coat, but Octavia could just make out the rising of the princess’s crystal hoof. It touched down on the bed sheets, dimpling into the covers slightly before, it was settled over a much larger shape in the bed. She made note to not address such an adjective with Celestia again.

“Dearest sister,” Luna whispered into the covers. “You must rise.” A groan was the reply that followed. Octavia heard Vinyl stifle a chuckle next to her. It was far better than the usual bellowing laughter the unicorn gave, so the gray alicorn let it slide. Besides, she was far more focused on adjusting her eyes to the darkness of the room. A random thought made her wonder if Luna could see in the dark already.

“Celestia, there is a matter of great importance. You cannot slumber any further.” Those were apparently the magical words.

No sooner did Luna whisper them to the slumbering princess than did the bed sheets begin to rise. An alabaster hoof pushed the top sheet and blanket away, revealing the regal alicorn beneath. Well… regal may have been too kind a word.

The normally ever billowing mane of the princess was matted and frayed, split ends marring the multi-colored fibers. They twisted against her coat, forming knots that Octavia could sympathize with having. Any more of the princess was kept from the gray alicorn’s gaze, however, due to the low light of the room. The problem was swiftly remedied, but not how Octavia expected.

The waking princess lit her horn with a golden light, illuminating the room. It lasted for but a moment, but what it did was instantaneously recognizable. The mane about the alicorn extended up and outwards, lifting and untying itself from the knots that had formed with Celestia’s coat. The split ends swiftly recovered as well. Simply, Celestia’s spell restored her regality.

It was very likely the darkness of the room that kept the older alicorn’s gaze from the unicorn and young cellist, but her eyes were upon Luna in a moment. She voiced her concerns immediately.

“What is wrong, Luna?” She asked the question in a tone Octavia had not heard before. She had never seen her princess worry, even when the Changeling Queen was upon her. “Has something happened?”

“Yes, sister, something has.” Luna nodded with her words, an action noticeable only by the sparkling stars in her mane. Octavia and Vinyl were as still as they were silent as the darkness around them. “But you must rise. You will understand once you see our guests.” And all at once, Octavia was terrified once more.

“Guests?” Celestia dittoed, her purely questioning. Octavia lowered herself to the lavender carpet beneath her hooves, feeling her wings instinctively tuck tightly against her body and her head bow low. Her stance must have hidden her new appendages well in the dark, for Celestia sounded anything but surprised. “Oh, my apologies. I did not see you there.”

With her head bowed, Octavia couldn’t see, but she could hear the tall alicorn rise from her bed, the sheets sliding off of her and landing upon the cushiony bed beneath. She couldn’t see her wings unfold, her head rise, or her kind gaze looking down upon her, but she failed to imagine Princess Celestia doing anything else.

“No problem, your highness,” Vinyl responded from beside Octavia. The mare was thankful Luna’s warning seemed to stick with Vinyl. “Sorry for barging into your room. But, to be fair, this is kinda big deal.” In what was one of a few times, Octavia completely agreed with her friend.

“Truly?” Celestia returned. “May I ask what happened?”

“Yeah, we could tell you,” Vinyl spoke easily. Octavia didn’t take kindly to the cheery tone in her words. “Buuuuut, it would be easier to show you.” Despite knowing something bad was going to happen, Octavia couldn’t stop her unicorn friend.

The DJ quickly but lightly tapped the gray mare’s sensitive underbelly, prodding a tender muscle. The reaction was instantaneous on all ends.

Octavia’s new wings extended outwards with a feathery gust, forcing her to take up almost twice the space she did moments before. As if the sudden explosion of her new appendages wasn’t bad enough, her horn lit with unfamiliar magic, creating a gray glow about herself. It was bright enough to illuminate the entire room, surrounding no fewer than half of the pillows. It lifted them into the air as if gravity had forgotten about them. All of the magic surrounded one horrified expression worn by Octavia Harmonica.

The first thing she saw was Princess Celestia’s wide gaze, the solar regent’s hooves lightly trotting backwards against the sudden and horrifically unrefined display. Whether it be from the shock, instinct, or the reminders of some sort of schedule, the alabaster alicorn’s own horn began to glow with her ethereal magic. Nothing in the room glowed back however.

Instead, the sun began to rise.

Silence took residence in the room. Octavia was beginning to loathe it.

A million and one feelings passed through the cellist as she looked up into Princess Celestia’s eyes. She felt terror, being before both Regents of Canterlot with wings and a horn that were not supposed to be hers. She felt her own level of shock, still half-hoping, half-wishing that this entire dreadful experience was nothing but a dream. Then she felt sorrow.

Celestia saw every one of those emotions in the younger mare.

“Please,” the alabaster alicorn spoke down to the gray mare, her voice full of empathy. It made Octavia swallow on something hollow in her throat. “Take no offense to my shock. I am… merely stunned.”

“Those sound like the same thing.” Octavia was seriously beginning to question the merits of taking Vinyl with her. She had done little more than cut through formalities. Thankfully, neither alicorn gave notice to the words.

Instead, Luna merely walked to her sister's side, illuminated by the newborn light creeping in through the window. Her crystal-clad hoof lightly touched her older sibling’s side, earning the elder’s attention.

“Do you… know how this happened?” Celestia posed the question to her sibling, multi-colored mane waving with the turn of her head. Luna merely shook her head.

“There is much to speak of, sister,” Luna spoke with a notably less-formal tone compared to conversations earlier. It still gave the commanding urgency Octavia has come to expect, however. “Let us tell you what we know.”

“This is… incredible.” Though neither Octavia nor Vinyl had been in the presence of Princess Celestia frequently, they could tell the focused state of the mare was anything but common.

It had taken little time to fully explain the details to the alicorn, but the mares present were more than ready to clarify what they knew. She was quiet and focused, listening to Luna explain, asking questions of Octavia and Vinyl only when they were needed. Her surprise never waned throughout the dialogue. Octavia was significantly disheartened to see that this was as much of a shock to Celestia as it was to Luna.

“Indeed, sister,” Luna spoke. “There is little idea of where this originates from, but there is no doubt that what has happened to the young Octavia is genuine.” Celestia took a deep breath at the words, shutting her eyes and focusing her mind. Octavia was afraid to try and imagine what the near-immortal alicorn was thinking.

When she opened her eyes again moments later, the pink irises were focused on the musician. There was no disdain or judgment behind them, only unrestrained curiosity.

“I am sure you most likely have already thought of this, but are you sure nothing… unusual has happened as of late?” There was a prodding sense to her words. Fishing, more like. “No conversations with ponies you are unfamiliar with? No antiques you have recently acquired?” Those were the first questions that Octavia had asked herself this morning. The answer was only too easy to respond with.

“No, your majesty,” she responded dutifully and politely. “My schedule has deviated little from my normal activities in the past few months. At the very most, the only changes have been due to the fluxes in my orchestra’s practice.” Octavia kept her head bowed as she spoke. It was not something Celestia was proud to see.

“Please, raise your head.” Octavia did so with a slight hesitation. She was greeted with a relaxed smile from the princess. She wondered how long the alicorn must have practiced that smile to make it appear so… normal. “Were there any new goals you set for yourself? Perhaps a desire or wish for something you did not believe you would be able to achieve?” Once more, Octavia shook her head before she responded.

“No, your majesty,” she parroted her words from before. “I have only ever strived for goals that are within my grasp. I have always set goals before my dreams.”

“And that’s what’s keeping you a stick in the mud,” Vinyl voiced from behind the gray alicorn. Octavia felt a sigh work through her lips at the words. She was no longer annoyed by such sentiments from the unicorn, just wearied.

“Vinyl,” Celestia spoke the DJ’s name with direction. Octavia saw her friend give the tall alicorn her full attention. At least, she assumed so beyond those opaque lavender lenses. “Have you brought anything home that has been… unusual?” Where Octavia spoke with a controlled tongue and careful words, Vinyl threw her sentences together the way she did her music. It was, as the DJ had described herself once, dirty.

“Nope. Not aside from what I usually pick up from my gigs. The usual amount of bits, some cider to keep the mind loose, maybe a few numbers from a few desperate stallions. A couple of rubbers, once.” Octavia felt her cheeks warm with a blush. She lifted her hooves to hold them down. “Oh! I did snag a half-eaten cheddar bread sandwich, but if that made Octy go all super pony, we’re gonna want to get that recipe from the bar.”

Octavia perfectly predicted the silence that followed.

“Yes, well…” Celestia spoke before her sister, clearly unused to the brash nature of the unicorn. To her credit, Octavia nearly bucked the mare the first time they met. “I suppose we can say this is likely the act of some yet-to-be-seen force.”

“Wait,” Octavia spoke before she could stop herself. Her voice fell immediately following the word, though the eyes of the alicorns and her friend were still upon her. She chose her next words with far more caution. “Does that mean you have no idea why I’m like… this?” Her hoof motioned over herself, horn, wings, and all. The alabaster diarch shook her head, eyes closed.

“We do not yet know why you have become an alicorn,” Celestia began, “All who have ascended before you have done so because they have maintained the balance of harmony in times where it was threatened to break.”

“Then, am I to assume that must mean this is an…” Octavia raised her hoof, using it to poke at the horn on her head. “An accident?” Celestia was quick to shake her head.

“No, not at all.” The alicorn was adamant with her assurances. “I am saying that there is a reason, but it is not one we can yet judge. In time - hopefully soon - we will know why you have changed. In the mean time, there is much more we can do.” Octavia felt the feathers in her wings bristle. If either alicorn noticed, they did not comment on it.

“It is no secret that alicorns are held in very high regard.” Luna finished. Octavia took a moment to observe just how powerful the two looked side-by-side. Even alone they were majestic and imposing. Together… Octavia still couldn’t believe they needed help with anything. “Though a princess you are not, you will undoubtedly be judged against us in the eyes of other ponies.”

“It is an unfair light to cast upon you, but it is one that cannot be kept away.” Celestia’s voice had a kind of empathy Octavia couldn’t ignore. It made the cold news she was being told easier to swallow.

“Do not fear this, young Octavia,” Luna spoke after her sister. “For no matter how unforeseen this gift may be, it is a gift nonetheless.”

The gray alicorn wasn’t aware when the sister had unfolded their wings, but it was impossible to miss them now fully extended. Just behind them, the dawn of the new day was reaching its adolescence, the full sun broke behind the mountains, fighting away the last of the night. With it shining from the window and hallowing about them, their majesty made the jaw of the youngest alicorn fall loosely.

“We will be here to aide you, in every and all ways we possibly can.” Celestia slowly began to trot towards the cellist, her smile warmly-glowing. “You are not the first to experience this, and I am certain there will be more to come.”

“But you are not alone,” Luna agreed with her sister, smiling down upon the youngest alicorn with sincerity in her eyes. “You are bestowed with a chance to show great promise. You only need to chose what you will now do.”

Octavia let the moment seep in.

This was, all at once, far more important and far more horrifying than any symphony or orchestra she had ever experienced. She did not presume that this amount of tension would ever be put upon her, not even when she was planning to compose her own rhapsodies for the sisters. And yet, this was happening right here, right now.

She was no longer a musically gifted earth pony, born to great musicians in a line of violinists and composers. She was now an alicorn, one of the most gifted, magically astute, and regal ponies in all of the land.

“Wow, that got heavy fast.”

If there was one solid fact that Octavia could always depend upon, however, it was Vinyl Scratch. Fortunately, Princess Celestia seemed to be rather amused by the DJ’s comment. It was a trait that neither her sister nor Octavia held.

“Indeed,” the Sun Princess agreed, chuckled lightly under breath. “Though, to be fair, I think it is much more appropriate to hide nothing in matters as… heavy as this.” Vinyl put on her cheeky grin, gazing up at the princess. Once more, Octavia knew the unicorn was giving half-lidded eyes to the alicorn.

“Octavia,” Luna spoke the young alicorn. The mare offered absolute attention to the diarch. “The next course of action is obvious. You are clearly refined, and possess a great deal of propriety when it comes to manners and etiquette.” Octavia did her best not to blush. Judging by Vinyl’s chuckling, she was not successful.

“I… thank you, your majesty,” Octavia averted her eyes, but she felt her wings ache at her sides. She wasn’t sure what that meant., but doubted that it was a good thing.

“However, you are clearly lacking the in the mechanisms of magic and flight.” Octavia took no offense to the observation.

She never believed she had any skill in something she had never done before. She wouldn’t dare to say she was any more skilled in magic or flight than she was in tuning a guitar. Magic was something Vinyl used to annoy her in the late hours of the night. She didn’t know how to pick up a feather with her new horn, let alone do anything else with it. At least with a guitar she could approximate the tuning.

“Then… are you going to teach me?” It was an innocent question. At least, Octavia hoped it sounded innocent. She couldn’t imagine another way to ask it. The unchangingly kind smile Luna gave told the mare she did not speak out of place.

“If you so desire it, though I am not the only one who may be able to teach you.” That raised a few questions in Octavia’s mind. As always, Vinyl spoke a few first.

“You mean, like, Celestia is going to teach her? Or is that new princess down in Ponyville. Twilight, right? Oh oh! Or are you going to ask that Crystal Princess to help out?” Though tact was as barren from Vinyl as water was remove a desert, her question was nevertheless worth asking. Celestia answered the unicorn as kindly as she had spoken before.

“If she so chooses, perhaps.” Before she spoke on, the alabaster diarch turned towards the gray alicorn. “But what my sister and I mean is that we do not have to be the ones to teach you. In fact, neither does it have to be an alicorn at all.”

“B-But I thought you were going to help me.” By the slight look of panic that quickly overtook Luna’s features, Octavia knew two things immediately. One, she had clearly sounded far more desperate than she hoped to. Two, her fears were unfounded. She was embarrassed by the first, but thankful for the second.

“And help you we shall, that will not change with any amount of time.” The dark diarch was commanding with her tone.

“But please, do not misunderstand. We merely thought you may wish to learn from another astute with magic.” Celestia spoke up as her sister finished. Octavia took a moment to appreciate how in-sync the two were. Octavia was certain they didn’t have time to practice, but, being an only child, she did not know the ways of sisters. “While there will always be debate about those best at teaching ways of magic, or any other skill, it all depends upon who the student agrees with more.” Octavia was focused on how succient the alabaster mare was with her words. “For example, I would not think you would enjoy listening to a professor full of his own devices.”

That was true, in ways the princess probably didn’t know. Octavia had had a tutor such like that when she was young. She learned more about that stallion’s growth and sway regarding the field of harmonics than she did about playing the cello. Fortunately, her parents were wise enough to dismiss him early on.

“But please be wary, young Octavia,” the dark alicorn went on. “For now, your change is unknown to us. There have been neither prophecies nor devices working to possibly hint towards such a radical alteration. My sister and I will work as diligently with uncovering the reason for this change as we do our own courts. All we ask is that you take this time to also learn.” The gray mare nodded her head, ending with her eyes shut towards the diarch.

“I understand,” Octavia spoke, bowing her head. “I apologize for presuming too much.” Luna dismissed the words with a wave of her crystal adorned hoof.

“You thought logically with what little we have given you.” The words did Octavia some good. “However, the initial conundrum still stands. You must learn at least some small form of magic. The only question is from whom will you learn.”

Poll Question 1:
Who should Octavia talk to first about her magic?
A) Princess Luna
B) Twilight Sparkle
C) Vinyl Scratch
D) Discord

All answers will be tallied and counted within two weeks of this chapter's posting. The decision will decide the next and future chapters. Think carefully!

The Crescendo

“You’re doing great!” The encouraging words were spoken with a chipper voice. “Now just slowly ease your mind forward. Imagine the pillow floating to the throne.”

Octavia clenched her teeth and focused her thoughts, attempting to do just that.

Her hooves dug into the carpet beneath her, her legs flexing her into a lowered stance. The muscles lining her neck tensed as she strained them, contracting until her head was nearly shaking. A light sheen of sweat had begun matting her otherwise-pristine gray fur. But Octavia never took her eyes off that pillow.

She didn’t see the grand crystal halls around her; not the six thrones arranged in a circle at the center of the room, not the sharp, cutie mark-like designs on the backs, and not even the princess standing only a few paces behind her. For all Octavia could tell, she could have been in the throne room of the Princess of Friendship or she could be in the train station of Dodge Junction. All she cared about was that pillow floating in the air.

Surrounded in a gray hue--one that she had only ever seen herself perform thus far--it hovered like a leaf caught in an updraft. Unlike during her many other attempts, it didn’t suddenly explode into a cloud of feathers. It didn’t smash upwards into the ceiling and impale itself on the hard crystal. And, thankfully, it had yet to burst into flames.

It had taken Octavia nearly a hundred attempts, but she was finally lifting that pillow into the air. All she needed to do now was slowly, carefully, let it float over the to the princess’s throne. Then she could release it.

It had to be slow, Octavia reminded herself, like dragging a bow over two measures of a B Flat. She couldn’t rush the movement, or else it would destroy the pacing of the piece. She had to be careful with it. So long as she fixed her concentration, she could succeed. If Octavia could play the overture of a symphony to a crowd of thousands, then she could lift and move a pillow. Nothing could spoil her focus now.

“Hey, Octy! Look at this!”

Except for that.

The sudden shout was enough to make Octavia jump. Her head spun towards the voice, eyes wide and mouth gasping. As she looked, her wings flared and her legs crossed. She found herself in the twisted pose, costing her her balance, and fell onto the carpet, one of her wings painfully bending at a high angle.

Octavia watched with an odd sense of horror as the pillow dropped from the air, tumbling lightly and soundlessly. It hit the carpeted floor with a dull thump. To the cellist, it may as well have sounded like a vase shattering.

She puffed her lips and furrowed her brow, turning her back towards the voice that had called out to her. She didn’t need to see to know who it was. Somewhat awkwardly, Vinyl Scratch stood off to the side. In her neon blue grasp was a small snow cone. Empty, of course. She chuckled nervously at Octavia’s display.

“Geez, Tavi,” the unicorn spoke in a half-impressed, half-humored tone. “You gotta relax a little more while you do this stuff. You’re already stuffed up enough with your violin practice.”

Octavia blew a hot breath of air from her nose. She straightened herself, rising into a more dignified stance and stiffening her wings. Octavia had a small hope that she looked intimidating to her obnoxious friend, even remembering to tie the whole image together with a deeply-furrowed brow. The confident smirk on the unicorn’s face, however, suggested otherwise.

“First of all, Vinyl,” Octavia near-hissed her friend’s name. “It is a cello, not a violin. This is not the first time I have told you this. Secondly, how am I supposed to relax when I’m performing magic? Thirdly, you know better than to distract me when I’m focusing.” It was somewhere around the second point that Vinyl starting chuckling lightly to herself. It did nothing to calm Octavia’s growing agitation.

“Seriously, Tavi, you gotta chill out.” The unicorn approached the new alicorn the same way she did a new set piece; confident and bright. “I’ve heard you play on yer cello enough to know that the only time you stress out is when somethin’ interrupts you.” The irony of the statement went right over Vinyl’s head, horn, and glasses altogether.

“Oh, and what would you suggest? Have a few glasses of cider before I try this?” Octavia was hoping the bite in her words would leave a wound, if only a small one. Vinyl, however, just laughed it off with another throaty chuckle. It annoyed Octavia to the high heavens.

“Nah, nothing like that. The whole reason I’m here is just because I know ya best.” Her hoof idly scratched at her cheek. “Look, think of it this way. When I’m gettin’ ready to play in a new venue, I don’t think about the place itself, I think about it in terms of my music.” Octavia closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. It would be impolite to tackle Vinyl to the ground in front of a princess. The unicorn took it as permission to continue.

“I mean, ya gotta stop thinking about this stuff in terms of what unicorns and alicorns would say. No offense, Twi.” Octavia could hear her teeth crack, she was sure of it.

“Oh, none taken. Please, continue.” At least Twilight showed interest in Vinyl’s story. It made it easier for Octavia to justify holding back her screams.

“Tavi, Octy,” Vinyl spoke both pet names for the alicorn before continuing. “You’ve never thought of magic like me and Sparkle over here do. We grew up with the stuff. So it’s literally second nature to us. You?” She gestured to the steaming pony with a hoof. “You gotta stop trying to make it second nature and start thinking of it like something that is second nature.”

Twilight must have seen the vein popping up on Octavia’s forehead, because the princess’s timing was flawless.

“Vinyl, Octavia, why don’t we stop for now?” she intervened, fearing sparks were soon to fly. “We’ve made excellent progress so far, and there’s no need to rush any further. It’s been six… seven hours now? I lost track. Either way, it’s been more than enough.”

“Sounds cool to me,” Vinyl agreed easily. She wore a casual smile, as if nothing happened. “Probably need to make up for the snow cone. Don’t want too much junk in the trunk.” As if to punctuate her words, her neon blue magic crumbled up the cone-shaped piece of paper floating beside her.

Then, with all the grace of a lopsided duckling, she discarded the cup over her back. The paper slid across the floor, and coming to a stop beside Twilight’s throne. Octavia let out a sigh, though it sounded more like a hiss of pain. Vinyl trotted out of the room, either not hearing or blissfully ignoring her friend’s agitation. When the unicorn was gone, Octavia turned to Twilight with a short bow.

“I am very sorry, your highness,” she immediately apologized. “My friend lacks more manners than a newborn foal.” She heard the laughter almost instantaneously. Octavia glanced up, seeing the princess giggling above her, hoof hovering over her lips.

“It’s fine, really.” Twilight dismissed the apology, waving the hoof that once stifled her amusement. “With some of the friends I have, Vinyl is a pinnacle of etiquette. I mean, I’m sure she hasn’t ever flown snout-first into the princess’s face.” The giggling from the newly-crowned princess continued for only a small moment longer. Then, lowering her hoof, she gave Octavia a small, yet genuine smile. “Besides, she was kind to play at my brother’s wedding, not to mention Rarity’s fashion show as well.”

“If nothing else, she takes her work seriously,” Octavia admitted, slowly rising from her bow. When Twilight gave no protest, she stood to her tallest. New though she may be, Twilight Sparkle of Ponyville was still a princess, no matter how close to the cellist she was in age.

“She is right, though,” Twilight began. “Even though you insisted we continue your practice as long as possible, it is important to take breaks. I… I’m probably not the most qualified pony to be asking somepony else to stop using magic, but at least Vinyl understands.”

“I’m.. not sure I fully understand, your majesty.” Octavia was more confused than clarified by Twilight’s words. The princess had a small look of discomfort about her, causing instant worry in the freshly-made alicorn.

“Please don’t call me ‘your majesty’. It’s just not something I think I want to get used to.” Twilight let out a small sigh, straightening herself to continue. “What I meant was that my friends have pointed out to me that I have a tendency to not stop something until it’s completed, and that I’d often force myself to work through the night. I didn’t even think it was that odd until I started making friends.” As Twilight continued speaking, Octavia did well to remind herself that the princess was telling, literally, her life’s story.

“It’s great to work hard, because hard work is what gives us the knowledge and skill to succeed. But you have to know when to stop, when it’s time to see your limits and ask your friends for help.” Twilight gave Octavia a knowing smile, continuing softly but steadily. Octavia thought it appeared suspiciously similar to the smiles Vinyl would often give. “You’re lucky to have a friend like Vinyl, you know. She knows you well, and knows when to say enough is enough.”

The gray alicorn felt a warm blush run beneath her coat. She immediately broke eye-contact, looking towards a suddenly enrapturing part of the floor. It figured, in retrospect. Twilight, the Princess of Friendship, really would be able to pin-point her relationship with Vinyl easily. Who else but the one who studied it for a living?

“She does know me well,” Octavia finally admitted, feeling a small smile pull at her lips. “I suppose if two ponies share an apartment for long enough, they’ll have to become good friends. That, or worst enemies.”

“I’m glad it’s the former.” Octavia started laughing, and Twilight quickly joined in. In that moment, any tension remaining in the younger alicorn was quickly eased. She really wasn’t speaking with a Princess of Ponyville. She was simply chatting with a fellow mare. It felt nice. Great, even. “Though she does know when to say stop,” Twilight added, chuckles subsiding, “I don’t think she’d be the best teacher for you alone.”

“Oh, I completely agree,” the gray mare responded, lifting a hoof to signify her lack of protest. “I could no more listen to Vinyl attempt to instruct me then she could listen to me tell her to clean the living room. For reference, I still have a hard time seeing the floor.” And again, Twilight let out a small chorus of giggles, one soon followed by Octavia’s own.

It was a pleasant feeling, speaking with a pony that had grown up in a way similar to her own. Octavia doubted Princess Twilight partied or worked like Vinyl, let alone practicing the horrific manners the unicorn seemed keen on sharing. Talking to a pony that actually thought before they spoke; Octavia usually only had that blessing during her rehearsals.

“I have to admit, though, you are improving at a phenomenal rate.” Twilight’s spoke kindly again. “In only a week, you’ve been able to improve at a rate that would take most fillies at least a year!” The compliment was genuine, but Octavia found it didn’t lift her enthusiasm.

“I… appreciate the kind words, your majesty, but… I hardly find comparing myself to a foal a fair assessment in any regard.” The words landed harder than Octavia had intended.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it like that!” The lavender mare hurriedly waved her forehooves, settling back on her rump with a look of abject horror spread across her features. “I-I just meant that… th-that for just getting a new horn, you have exceptional control of it.” Octavia was sure she wasn’t imagining the blush across the princess’s features.

Twilight looked to and fro, searching for something the gray mare was unsure of. She saw the idea pop into the princess’s mind. Her eyes widened only slightly, but her lips pulled in a grin.

“Here, let’s try this,” Twilight started trotting around Octavia as she spoke, causing the fellow mare to turn. By the time she had turned around, Twilight was sitting on the ground again, her hoof motioning towards a lone object on the floor. Octavia recognized it immediately as the remains of the snow cone Vinyl had thrown. She really had to reprimand that mare later.

“Vinyl’s gone for now, and Spike will probably keep her busy in the kitchen for a little bit.” Octavia recalled how easy it was to bribe the unicorn with a good meal. It was how she got the many needed hours of practice that she did. “Instead of the pillow, why don’t you try lifting and moving the snow cone? The trash can is right over there.” The unicorn pointed behind Octavia as she spoke. The cellist bit her lip.

It wasn’t as if she lacked the confidence to pull off the maneuver, as she was very near performing it earlier. It just felt… off, somehow. Like transitioning from a cello to a violin. Despite Vinyl’s common mistake, the two instruments were similar in many ways. That did not mean Octavia had any mastery over the smaller stringed instrument. Rather, she only had basic ideas on how to use it. This was much the same.

She had been practicing with a pillow--a light, fluffy pillow-- for nearly a week. Now she was going to start lifting something else. She could do it, she knew she could, but it still felt… different somehow. Octavia let a low sigh pass her lips, steeling herself and considering. She couldn’t very well expect to say she could use magic if pillows were the only thing she could lift, could she?

But then a rogue thought entered her mind. It wasn’t something obscene or absurd. Rather, it was just a small message repeating in her mind, and one that had been given to her by a friend. Specifically, the only friend who had given her advice so recently. With a sigh, she decided that she might as well attempt it.

Just as before, she adopted a crouched position, tensing her muscles and focusing her mind. She blocked out the room around her, no differently than she would a theatre hall or a crowd in front of the symphony. There was nothing else around her that was important, not even Princess Twilight Sparkle. All that mattered now was the paper cone.

She reached out with her mind and imagined the object like she would the lone string on her cello, patiently waiting for her touch. And she did, in her mind’s eyes, grasp the crumbled bit of paper on the ground. Octavia felt her gray aura envelop the snow cone, making it shine and hum. It sounded to her like the first note of a properly strung chord.

Taking in a slow breath, she lifted her head, guiding the cone with the end of her horn. As she did so, she could hear the notes in her mind growing in volume and drawing the curtain to the symphony. It lifted into the air near-effortlessly.

She tilted her head, careful not to turn it. A musician was not supposed to turn her body while she played any instrument, only bend closer towards or away from it. As Octavia leaned to her side, the cone followed with her, drifting over the floor. She could hear the soft intro of a melody drifting through the room alongside the cone.

All too soon it hovered over the waste bin, ready for Octavia to release her spell. But what that meant was only too clear to the new alicorn, and too depressing, too. To end the spell would end the song, and she hated ending a rehearsal early.

Instead, she let the music guide her mind, following the logical progression of notes. She needed a verse; a rise in temp that would snag attention after the slow pacing of the beginning. Octavia felt her head bobbing very slightly in tune with the notes that echoed in her mind, her eyes still solely focused on the crumbled bit of paper.

As the notes continued to flow through her, the paper floated away from the bin, easily and quickly settling over the table. It bounced in her gray aura, tapping on the table in tune with an inaudible beat. Octavia let the music in her mind guide her magic.

The alicorn was no longer sure if she was casting a levitation spell, or had simply become one with the paper. But she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. As mundane as the task was, she was enjoying herself. It was as if she was proving her worth at an open recital all over again.

Octavia could only barely make out the humming of some pony talking, but she ignored it regardless, just as she would any stray voice in the audience. She could not be distracted by such frivolous things, not while there was music to make.

Her lips turned into a smile and her eyes glittered, watching as the paper began to unfold from its crumbled state. In an almost majestic way, the paper began to straighten like a clam opening to reveal a precious pear, smoothing its edges and removing the sharp creases beset by her unicorn friend earlier.

Octavia was blissfully unaware of what she was doing. All she cared to think about now was that the music was approaching the finale, and she could not disappoint the audience. Perfection was essential.

With another small flick of her horn, requesting the strings to increase in volume, the paper cone sprung outwards. It was now completely free of any creases, bends, or flaws to its conical shape. But that was not all. It performed several small dips and twists, as if dancing through the air to her enchanting melody.

Air maneuvers completed, it met the surface of the table, spinning on its side. Its top lifted, open end facing upwards toward the ceiling in a seamless twirl. Octavia felt the last strings in the symphony release, ending the song with reverberating echoes. It was only then that she realized the extent of what she had done. It was as if the metaphorical curtains were truly drawn back and she was able to appreciate her own work.

She was dumbstruck.

She stared at the small snow cone, now perfectly shaped and settled on the table, its point down. Despite the clearly impossible position, it was perfectly balanced, no longer surrounded by her gray aura. It was something she thought only possible to those who were masters of the magical arts, something she certainly was not.

She wasn’t so certain anymore, however.

Her eyes turned, shakily, towards Twilight. Octavia wasn’t sure if she should be elated or terrified that the mare looked as shocked as she did. Were it not for the skull holding it up, Octavia was sure Twilight’s jaw would be lying on the floor. It was close enough already.

“Oct… Octavia.” Said mare prepared herself for whatever may come. “Wow… wow!” She was not prepared for the overly excited cheering from the princess.

With almost as much surprise as when she saw the snow cone, Octavia watched as Twilight nearly began to jump in place. The alicorn’s hooves excitedly beat against the carpet, a gleeful smile writ large across her face. A small flash of light momentarily blinded Octavia, leaving her with her hoof raised above her eyes. When she lowered it, Twilight was no longer behind her. Instead, she had appeared next to the table, staring fixedly at the standing snow cone with rapt attention.

“This is amazing!” She said in an awed whisper, something Octavia had heard many fillies do. “You’ve casted an absolute balance spell perfectly in conjunction with a fault repair incantation! There isn’t a single crease on the paper, and there’s no support to keep it standing! It’s incredible! You’re incredible!”

Octavia suddenly found herself at a loss for words. Or, rather, she remained lost. It didn’t become any easier to find them when another flash of light blinded her, leaving her squinting. She blinked away the bright lights, only to see two equally-bright lavender eyes inches from her face. The gray alicorn fell backward onto her flank with a small squeak of surprise. Twilight either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“You never told me you had such mastery of these spells! Were you practicing in your off hours? Did one of the princesses give you tutoring lessons?” Despite the intensity of her tone, Twilight appeared to be more excited than hurt at the prospect of Octavia learning from some other pony. The sitting mare shook her head rapidly nevertheless, denying the idea entirely. “Then was Vinyl Scratch helping you? Did she teach you in private how to mend fractured objects?”

“N-No! No!” Octavia was waving her hooves in denial. Thankfully, it seemed to break a little of the lavender alicorn’s obsession over the details, as it made her take a few hoof steps back. The pause was just enough for the gray mare to stand back up and collect herself. “No, no I… I-I just tried to take Vinyl’s advice to heart.”

“Her advice? You mean thinking in second nature?” Octavia nodded her head to confirm. “That’s wonderful! What did you think of, if I may ask?” Octavia was never shy about her music before. She was not about to start now.

“I thought of it like an orchestra,” she spoke honestly, eyes transfixed on the empty snow cone. She still had a hard time believing that she did it, having only been gifted with magic so recently. “I thought… I imagined that I was the conductor. Despite what most ponies think, the conductor does not guide the music, but rather is guided by it. You follow the dips and rises, commanding instruments to rise or fall with the tune of the others. If you only led, the song would fall apart.” Twilight seemed to be catching on.

“You were listening to a song, then. And… You didn’t want to stop it?” Octavia let out a small smile with her breath, nodding her head in agreement. “That’s amazing! You should be very proud of yourself!” The bright smile and optimistic voice was all the indication the gray mare needed towards the sincerity in those words. Then again, she had a hard time imagining Twilight being deceitful.

“Yes... I am.” And she was, truthfully. Octavia was proud of herself. She felt the small fire in her chest, the small recognition of herself that she loved to sit in and soak in. She let it remind herself that no matter how many obstacles she may face, she should always be proud. Her mother taught her that. She loved her mother.

“Princess Twilight,” Octavia spoke the lavender mare’s name, earning her attention. “May I pose you a question?”

“Octavia, please. Just ‘Twilight’ is fine.” This was not the first time the Princess of Friendship had had to insist on her first name with the gray mare. She seriously doubted it would be the last. “But yes, what’s on your mind?” Octavia bowed her head softly before she spoke again.

“I was hoping you might have a theory as to how… this happened.” As she asked the question, one of her forehooves motioned around her body, sweeping from the tip of her horn to the base of her hooves. It was rather clear what she meant. Twilight gave a very quick sigh, preparing a response. Octavia continued, however.

“I-I mean to say… neither Princess Luna nor Princess Celestia have any knowledge as to why I have changed, and now I have just shown… something significant with my magic.” Her hoof moved from her body to the snow cone, which was still balancing magnificently on its single point. “Do you have any idea?” Octavia tried to make herself sound anything but desperate. She wasn’t sure how well that was accomplished.

“Honestly, no.” The disappointment in Twilight’s voice was evident. “According to Princess Celestia, there was a prophecy written by Star Swirl regarding my own ascension, and Cadance was the last in a line of ponies descending from the Crystal Empire. I’m afraid that there really isn’t anything talking about you, Octavia. I’m sorry to say that, but I don’t want to lie to you.” If nothing else, Octavia did appreciate the mare’s truthfulness.

“I can’t say I am not disappointed, but thank you for the honesty nonetheless. I’d prefer a cruel reality to a pleasant dream.” That was a lesson taught to her by her father. To never run away from what was true. She loved him just as much as she loved her mother. She loved both her parents.

Octavia didn’t know if it was the words themselves, how she spoke them, or just the expression on her face, but whatever it was, Twilight was by her side shortly. She felt a wing wrap around her, comforting her. Octavia turned her head, blinking. She saw Twilight giving her a smile to match her embrace.

“Why don’t we see if Spike and Vinyl have made anything good yet?” Twilight suggested with a chipper tone. “We could do with a break by now anyway.” Octavia felt a smile pull at her lips, and she nodded her head for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, that sounds… pleasant.” A break was certainly long overdue. Preferably one with a nice cup of tea and jasmine bread. That never failed to relax her nerves. Knowing Vinyl, expecting such a treat downstairs was impossible. With Spike, maybe less so.

“Come on,” Twilight signaled with her head, cheerfulness across her features. “We can talk more in the kitchen.” Their current conversation over, the lavender mare trotted from the room. As an afterthought, she lightly reorganized what needed to be straightened before she left. Pillows and other small objects simultaneously returned to their rightful positions all about the room. It was a simple act for the princess--a single wave of her horn at most--but it was far more than Octavia could imagine, especially now that she understood the level of concentration that entailed.

Where she needed to focus on a crumbled piece of paper in order to levitate it, Twilight was able to reorganize the pillows strewn about the room, right and square the tables that had been moved, remove any spare wrappers or trash that had been left in Vinyl’s wake, and even draw the curtains for the sun to shine through. All with a single wave of her horn. Octavia had no questions as to why she was Celestia’s protégé.

It didn’t take long to turn the corner from the courtroom and reach into the hall. Said halls were all covered with the same crystal structure that the rest of the palace was made out of. Unlike the grand halls of Canterlot’s Castle, however, these were far less decorated. No history hanging from the walls, no artifacts of years long past, nothing but a carpet across the floor and not but a few choice windows along the walls. They would be filled in time, doubtlessly, but it was hard to ignore how bare they were.

“Something smells good,” Twilight’s musings broke Octavia from her own. She saw the lavender mare’s wings beat lightly, either in anticipation, excitement, or, likely, both. It reminded Octavia of her own wings as well. She looked back at them, unsure.

She had gained no more control over them in the past week, as she had done little more than experiment with how they felt in the air. It still felt odd to say that they were her wings. Her horn was hard enough to master, but at least Princess Twilight was generous enough to coach her on its use. It was far from being a natural part of her, as Vinyl so keenly pointed out, but it was now more like her cello; an extension of herself. That sounded right.

Reaching the end of their trek, Twilight pushed open a smaller crystal door to reveal the kitchen of the Ponyville Castle. As soon as the small barrier was open, a tantalizing odor forcefully met Octavia’s nose. Steamed hay with caramel dressing, a dessert likely thought up by Vinyl. The scent that truly attracted her, however, was the wafting essence of dandelions atop a dish of pasture greens. It made her mouth water.

Beyond the heavenly aroma was a set of familiar tools in an unfamiliar room. Octavia had ventured into the kitchen maybe twice before, but never with such a close eye. It was large, large as the mare expected the kitchen of a castle to be. Tabletops meant to hold enough food for a feast were lined across the room, complete with one running straight through the middle as well. Cupboards and cold storage containers were also speckled about the room, doubtlessly organized by the local chef’s command. Said chef was addressed not a moment later.

“Hey, Spike, what’s for dinner?” The sound of his name caught the dragon’s attention, making him look up from his meal preparation. Octavia looked at Spike. He had the cutest smile over his fangs. Even in her mind, that sounded odd.

“Hey, Twilight! Hello, Octavia!” The polite dragon responded to the princess’s voice. Octavia sought the dragon out, finding him standing on a tall stool in a half-apron. He was waving to her with one of his claws, a cheery grin across his muzzle. Politely, she fully returned the gesture, silently appreciating the cute creature. The pony next to him was quite another matter.

While Spike had the aura of a professional chef, with dishes completed and dressings prepared, Vinyl Scratch looked like a greedy customer too impatient to eat. A few green leaves were sticking out from her lips, slowly disappearing behind her chewing jaws and moving lips. Judging by the way her chin was upturned, her eyes were probably closed behind those opaque lavender glasses of hers. She was enjoying herself.

“Aw, Spike,” Vinyl let out, swallowing the last of the greens she had pilfered from the plates. “I’m this close ta stealing you and having you cook for me and Octy.” Octavia was only partially worried about the unicorn this time. This was not the first time she had dropped such abrupt comments.

“Well, you’re already stealing my ingredients.” The tiny green dragon noted with a wave of his claws. One of the dishes was completely vacant of a salad and the other missing at least a third of the greens. The other two remained untouched, though judging by their distance from the DJ, Spike had probably scooted them away from the hungry mare. “Seriously, you just had to wait a bit.”

“What’s the point in waiting when it’s already so good?” Vinyl argued back petulantly. “I just don’t want to be treated like I’m at one of those Hoity Toity restaurants Tavi keeps dragging me off to.”

“I’m sorry, Vinyl, but what is wrong with my preference in cafés?” Octavia accused. It was really the only way she had a chance of getting a straight answer from the mare. “And didn’t you already have a snow cone before you got here?” Vinyl turned her head towards her friend, giving the mare one of her signature smirks in advance of her reply.

“Come on, Octy, are you gonna tell me flat face that those places don’t take their sweet time gettin’ the food ready?” Vinyl turned Octavia’s accusation back on her. “And the snow cone? That was just ta cool me off. It gets hot out here. ‘Sides,” the unicorn started, turning her salivating mouth back towards the collection of greens assembled by the dragon. “When have I ever said no to free food?” Spike’s claws dragged the meal further away from her.

“Placing aside the fact you answered my questions with more questions, you must remember that this food isn’t free.” Octavia trotted the short distance across the kitchen to Vinyl’s side. “We are guests of Princess Twilight Sparkle and her marvelous assistant Spike.” She made sure to bow to the baby dragon, earning a small blush from him.

“Yeah, and guests eat free.” The conclusion was reached so simply that Octavia had to resist slamming her head upon the desk. “Seriously, watch this.” Octavia knew she didn’t want to. “Hey, Twilight, can I have this salad?” Once more, Octavia proved herself correct.

“Of course! Spike was preparing for four.” The sincere answer came from the lavender mare. Octavia could only hope that it was the kindness of the princess that brought about the answer and not naiveté. Vinyl’s cheeky grin didn’t change regardless.

“See! All set!” Octavia managed to hold in her annoyance, stifling a moan of discomfort. She looked up pleadingly towards the lavender alicorn, hating the expression she was sure she was wearing. All it earned was a small giggle from the princess and a snicker from her assistant. It did little to help the situation.

The belch that Spike made, however, did.

“Whoa!” Vinyl let out, back-pedaling away. She stopped only when her rump ran into one of the counters against the wall. Octavia couldn’t suppress the small chorus of laughter that rose to her throat.

“Oh!” Twilight jumped up at the sight. “I’m so sorry about that! Spike doesn’t have much warning before he gets messages.” The alicorn quickly trotted over to Vinyl’s side, looking over the unicorn with concern. The puffed lips of Vinyl pouting was enough for Octavia to know her friend was okay.

“It’s fine,” the unicorn responded without conviction, adjusting the lenses on her snout. A few choice words grumbled from her lips, though they were unintelligible to both Octavia and Twilight. Knowing her friend, the gray mare was sure it was for the best.

“Twilight,” Spike spoke the princess’s name to get her attention. “It’s from the girls. It looks like they’re trying out the new system.”

“Really?” The question was spoken with an undeniable level of cheer. If the chirpiness of her voice was not enough to demonstrate her enthusiasm, Twilight suddenly teleporting to her assistant’s side was. Octavia only ever saw Twilight do that when she was overcome with good news, such as the request to teach her magic. The new alicorn considered herself lucky she wasn’t seeing spots with the sheer number of times Twilight had flashed her with magic.

Said alicorn spoke up. “Oh! Excuse me, but I have to take care of this. Just a message from Pinkie Pie.” She had the paper in her ethereal grasp, looking over a choice spot in the text. It was impossible for Octavia to tell quite what words she was staring at. “It’ll just be a moment. Spike, can you come with me?” Without a word, the dragon hopped down from his stool and untied his apron. With a routine pace, the two left the kitchen from the same door Octavia had just entered.

Vinyl and Octavia were left alone. In itself, there was nothing Octavia found wrong with that, having been roommates with the DJ long enough to grow somewhat accustomed to her eccentricities. What was concerning to her specifically, however, was where they were being left alone. Knowing Vinyl, it wouldn’t take long before half the kitchen was gone.

“So, anything new in the magical frontier?” Vinyl asked her friend, standing back-up from her earlier trip. “Cure any diseases? Destroy any monsters?” Octavia could only sigh before she responded, rolling her eyes at the suggestions.

“Honestly, Vinyl, I have no idea how those two things possibly relate to my aptitude in using magic.” The snicker from the unicorn told Octavia it was just another poorly phrased and hardly-understood joke. That mare, sometimes…

“I’m kidding ya. Really, though, you were up there for a little while. Something come up?” Vinyl wrapped her hoof around Octavia, pulling the mare into an unwilling side hug. The gray alicorn was only too used to her friend’s disregard for space, personal or otherwise. “C’mon, you can tell me. I can keep secrets like I’m a bank.”

“More like a blood bank.” Octavia replied dryly. Judging by the way Vinyl continued to hold her, she didn’t get the jab. However, this was not something she should just comment about and trot away from. There was something to say. “Actually, I made some progress.”

“Really? Awesome!” The unicorn whirled with her words, stopping only when she was snout-to-snout with the alicorn. Octavia was long-used to this kind of contact. Vinyl didn’t care. “So, tell me about it. Did you light Twilight on fire? Make a macarena dance?”

“No and no!” Octavia vehemently denied. “Honestly, Vinyl, I did little more than what I was capable of before. The only thing of note was how I did it.”

“I know. So seriously, spill it! What’d you do?” Octavia was trying her best to sort out if Vinyl was excited about her casting magic or if she was just acting the same as usual. It was hard to judge, given the unicorn was always so full of energy.

“I was successful in my attempt to levitate the crumbled snow cone wrapper you left in the courtroom.” Octavia snugged the barb in her words, just as she had seen her mother and father do countless times before. But where such words would have given her room to pause, Vinyl jumped over them without any mind.

“That’s cool! Glad I could help by providing the materials,” Vinyl snickered. “But seriously, what happened? Spike and I heard Twi cheering like mad! Spike said the last he heard her like that was when she got some old book.” It figured that the one mare Octavia would have sworn had hearing problems could make out a conversation two doors and a hallway away.

Still, it wasn’t as if there was much to hide. It was by Vinyl’s help that she was able to make any progress at all. Another smile pulled at Octavia’s lips.

“I successfully cast a series of spells that not only lifted your snow cone wrapper, but also repaired it to its proper shape and gave it perfect balance upon a table. It was standing on its point without aid from another device.” Even behind the glasses, the surprise was still evident in Vinyl’s features. Octavia was proud of it, proud that it was something she did herself this time, and not something that had happened to her.

“Seriously? That’s so cool!” The unicorn bounced at the testimony, giving a midair spin to follow. “Man, if I could cast spells like that I’d never have to worry about a cracked record or busted speaker again. Tavi, next time you gotta help me out. Whip out your magic alicorn-style and fix up my place.” And there was the pony Octavia knew, never failing to say just the right thing.

“Yes, well, I suppose next time such an event occurs, I can try.” Octavia averted her gaze in hopes to shift the conversation. It was a fruitless endeavor. “Though I do have to thank you. I was only able to cast those spells after I heeded your advice. To think in terms of something second nature to me.” Oddly, instead of riling up the unicorn, the words seemed to calm her down.

Rather than a wide-eyed and excited smile, complete with bouncing hooves and a resounding cheer, Vinyl just casually grinned at the new alicorn, breathing a small puff of air from her snout. She looked satisfied in a way Octavia wasn’t accustomed to seeing.

“Told ya I knew you best,” Vinyl spoke easily. Unfortunately, Octavia knew that she deserved it, at least this once. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Twilight’s got more spells in her head then I do songs, and that’s saying something, but even I know you can’t get too far dealing with somepony that knows nothing about you.” Vinyl punctuated her words by lightly tapping on Octavia’s back. Petting her, almost. The alicorn settled on simply sighing patiently. For all the flaws Vinyl had, there was a good idea or two in that electronically-addled mind of hers.

“Thank you, Vinyl,” Octavia responded genuinely, filling her debt of gratitude. “I suppose I do have to give my regards to you for… finding the quickest path to my success.”

“Dude, Octy! Once was enough.” Vinyl adjusted her glasses to give the new alicorn a rather flat stare. Octavia was more curious than off put by it. “We’re friends, and friends help friends. You helped me get a roof to sleep under and food to eat. If I can help you learn magic like the princess, I call that pretty fair.” Very few ponies would, but Octavia wasn’t about to argue away a deal blatantly in her favor.

She smiled at the unicorn, reminding herself for not the first time how lucky she was to have the DJ as a friend.

“Whoa, what’s with that look? Do I got something on my face?” Vinyl rubbed her hoof over her cheeks as she spoke. It was impossible to tell if she was serious or not. “Sorry if I do. But colt! It’s hard not to get that dragon’s food on you.” Octavia giggled at the statement, shaking her head and shutting her eyes.

The sound of an opening door perked her ears. She turned to see Twilight walking into the kitchen again, eyes scanning the room until they found Octavia. When they did, the Princess of Friendship visibly lit up.

“Octavia,” Twilight called her name. The lavender mare trotted into the room, a bright smile across her lips. “Are you busy tonight? Like, anything really important?” The question caught the mare off guard.

She blinked, momentarily filtering through her mind for any events. She had orchestra practice early the next day, and she still had to prepare a few meals for lunch and dinner, but no immediate concerns came to mind. There were no relatives to visit, meetings to attend or practices to be held.

“No,” she answered back truthfully. “Assuming the evening is not late, I am free.” The answer appeared to be exactly what Twilight was looking for. It was hard to miss the chipper clop of her hooves.

“That’s great!” She exclaimed enthusiastically. “Because Pinkie Pie invited me to one of her parties tonight. I thought it’d be great if you came along.” While Twilight was doubtlessly feeling her heart elate, Octavia felt quite the opposite.

On only too many occasions to name did Vinyl Scratch drag her out to the rambunctious parties around Canterlot. Late night getaways with more screaming and hollering than true party mingling, they were doubtlessly the cause of many grey hairs she would receive in the future. With a name like Pinkie Pie in a town like Ponyville, Octavia very much doubted that the party the Princess of Friendship spoke of would be as sophisticated as she preferred.

“I… appreciate the offer your highness, but I believe I should really take an early night’s rest.” Octavia did her utmost to respectfully decline the offer. It felt odd in no small way, denying a gift from royalty.

“Are you sure?” Twilight responded back, visibly deflated. Octavia figured she had gotten the princess’s hopes up by saying she was free and then shot her down. She wasn’t proud of that. “Pinkie is usually very good about timing with her parties. I’m sure you’d be home at a decent hour.” Octavia turned her head and licked her lips, doing her best to avoid revealing her nervous gaze.

“I’m honored to receive this invitation, Princess Twilight. I truly am, but-” What Octavia was going to say was that she was not in the mood to party like a mare without a care in her life. What happened instead was what was usual for a conversation with Vinyl Scratch in the vicinity. She popped into the dialogue in her own special way.

“Of course she’ll go!” the unicorn answered, wrapping an alabaster hoof around Octavia’s neck. Her pumping fist and forward-facing gaze meant that she missed the steaming expression on her friend’s features. The sudden contact made Octavia freeze. “She’s got nothin’ important to do. And a little time around other ponies could do her some good.” Octavia wasn’t sure if she should have been more insulted by the way Vinyl decided for her, the way she held onto her or the way she basically called her a loner. They all seemed equally terrible to her.

“Do you want to come too, Vinyl?” Twilight posed the question to the unicorn no differently than she had to the alicorn. The DJ, however, was quicker with her words than Octavia, as uncouth as they were.

“Nah, I gotta jet outta here soon. Got a gig back in Canterlot.” The unicorn adjusted the glasses on the bridge of her nose, making sure her smirk was broad and proud beneath it. “Can’t leave the little fillies crying.”

“Little fillies attend your late night performances?” In truth, Octavia knew better, but so few were the chances to tease her friend that she jumped at them as they came. Vinyl didn’t so much as roll her eyes. Rather, she turned said eyes right back on the alicorn still locked beneath her foreleg.

“Sure do! Have to play in a cage to keep the mares from jumping me. You jealous of that, Octy?” Vinyl poked her friend’s side to hammer home the question. That action was synonymous with stoking a fire, and Twilight could see this.

“Well, I think it would be great if you could come, Octavia,” the princess interjected easily. “You could meet the rest of the girls, and I’m sure they would love to meet you! Rarity has actually attended a few of Canterlot’s Orchestras. I’m sure she’d be delighted to see you.” Octavia had to admit, meeting another pony that appreciated symphonies was a treat she never tired of.

She bit her lip, unsure. It didn’t help that she continued to feel Vinyl pressuring her, metaphorically and literally. Her eyes locked with Twilight’s, and found the older alicorn’s gaze brimming with unabashed hope. It was more than clear she wanted her to go very much. Octavia gave in with a sigh. If she was trying so many new things, what was one more on the list?

“Okay, I’ll attend.” She agreed. Vinyl immediately flexed her leg, causing Octavia to raise her own foreleg in a vain attempt to fight against the grip.

“That’s my girl!” The unicorn cheered like the kitchen was one of her concert venues. “Now, before you go, you gotta remember the rules.” Octavia had no clue what Vinyl was talking about. She decided to hear her out.

With as much ceremony as she always displayed--that being none at all--Vinyl twisted Octavia around, staring into the other mare’s eyes through her purple lenses. Octavia felt her muscles tense uncomfortably. She wished she could be speaking over a table top, at the least.

“Rule number one,” the unicorn spoke, raising her hoof. “If some stallion hits on you, turn them down flat, no matter what.” Octavia wasn’t shocked that these were the sort of rules Vinyl would place. “Rule number two! If a mare hits on you, take her back home immediately. Seriously. No matter what, she’s a keeper.” Octavia knew she would regret it, but the question had to be asked.

“And for what reason should I obey these rules, exactly?” She spoke it in a sardonic tone laced with apathy, but Vinyl took it as an honest inquiry all the same. Octavia’s regret was not disappointed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” the unicorn responded with an entertained grin. “‘Cause it’s so much easier to tag in with two mares than any stallion!”

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” Twilight interrupted the unicorn, speaking with an uneasy smile. “I can promise that Pinkie Pie doesn’t throw those kinds of parties. This is just hanging out with friends, Octavia. Honest.”

“Yeah, I believe that,” Vinyl spoke back truthfully. “And that’s why I’m tellin’ Octy the rules. Friends are the first ponies ta jump ya. Seriously. Enough hard cider will do anypony in.” A few choice nights came to Octavia’s mind, but she wisely kept her mouth shut.

“In all honesty, I think I will be quite alright.” Octavia spoke to Vinyl, lightly moving out of her friends embrace. She looked to Twilight with what she hoped was an appreciating expression. “I would be honored to attend this social event with you and your friends, Princess Twilight.”

“Please, just ‘Twilight’.” Twilight said reflexively. Her mind then caught up with the rest of the sentence, and she gave a happy gasp. “That’s great!” The librarian gave an enthusiastic jump to punctuate her words. “I’ll let the rest of the girls know now!” With neither further word or warning, Twilight’s horn flashed a blinding white, taking the alicorn away in the blink of an eye. Octavia was blinking spots out of her eyes.

“And you wonder why I keep my shades on.” A scowl pulled at the gray alicorn’s lips, Vinyl chuckling beside her in response. “Seriously, though. Have some fun tonight. Catch me up on what happens when you get back, ‘kay?” And there was the seriousness Octavia so rarely heard from the unicorn. Genuine concern, from friend to friend.

“I will, Vinyl. I promise,” Octavia spoke her words honestly, earning an equally honest grin from the alabaster unicorn.

“Sweet! I’ll be out, then. Say hi and bye to the rest of the girls for me!” With all the elegance of a bull, the unicorn trotted out of the room, nearly barreling through the doorway. Octavia sighed and shook her head once more.

Deciding that the kitchen was hardly the place for her to wait for the princess, Octavia sought out a more appropriate room. The main court seemed like a good idea. It would likely be the first place for Twilight to search, as well as the least imposing area to sit in. Her eyes turned towards the plates still arranged on the counter, noticing one salad dish survived the massacre that was Vinyl’s hungry assault.

“Might as well,” she muttered to herself, an idea forming in her mind like a new orchestral piece. Octavia was fully aware that she was still in the stage of experimentation. Like learning any new instrument, she had to test all of its parts before learning how to operate it.

She settled for a soft break in an otherwise-masterful performance, lacking nothing in quality. Not a symphony, but a solo. The cello was her instrument of choice, of course. Octavia knew every appropriate rise and dip of the stringed instrument.

Though, as she put more thought into it, she could also recall the parts of a violin, a viola, and a bass. With just a bit more focus, she could even imagine the careful positioning on a flute, and then on a trombone and trumpet. With true focus, and her mind’s gaze, she could even see the chords of a piano being plucked, each one guided by an ivory key.

Octavia shook her head and cleared her thoughts.

“Focus, Octavia,” she spoke the verbal command to herself. It was one she had muttered often. “You are alone. Let not others guide you now.” The chant was one she had said often.

The cello in her mind vibrated with a deep note; Octavia knew it as A Flat. She saw her gray aura envelop the plate. As the note grew louder in her mind, the plate slowly lifted higher and higher into the air. She smiled to herself, proud once more.

The notes in her mind changed, rising in pitch until the plate was floating above the ground beside her, table forgotten. Satisfied, Octavia slowly trotted towards the door. The plate followed behind, keeping perfectly in tune with the notes reverberating in her mind.

It took little time for her to walk the length of the hall. The solo in her mind was keeping her thoroughly entertained. It was a performance she wished to play with her own hooves. The plate beside her appeared as if it was enjoying it, too. It spun lightly around her head, dancing fluidly with the chords in her mind. Though the pace never increased, the tone continued to change, and the plate’s dance likewise. The salad itself, however, never so much as faltered on the dish. Octavia absentmindedly noted that there was likely another spell she was unaware she had cast keeping the food from leaving the spinning surface. She paid the notion little mind.

The court appeared once again, the six chairs wrapped in a loose circle about one another. The chamber was, she noticed, complete with extra chairs to the sides and a small hallway to the grand doors of the castle. Twilight had insisted multiple times against either calling the castle grand or even so much as a castle at all, but Octavia was not about to call a swan a duck. This was indeed a grand castle, and was befitting of a princess such as Twilight Sparkle.

“Your majesty?”

The words made Octavia gasp.

In an instant, the music in her mind had ceased. Her head whirled towards the voice, spying a blue pegasus sitting just beside the main entranceway. He had a similar gaze of shock, his pupils constricted and posture tall. Octavia only had enough time to note that much before the shattering of a dish shocked her again.

This time Octavia jumped.

The alicorn easily leapt her height into the air, turning mid-jump to face the now-broken plate and scattered salad. Her chest heaved in an attempt to control herself, her system on high alert. The air around her was deftly still.

“A-Are you okay?” Octavia once more whirled towards the pony, starting after the first syllable was uttered. Her panic had not gone down one bit. Fortunately or not, neither had the other pony’s.

His forehoof was half stuck-out towards her, as if he was uncertain on whether or not to touch her. A look of panic was evident in his gaze, but by the shaking of his hooves it was clear he was also debating about how to proceed. It was impossible to tell, however, just what he was doing.

“Who are you?” The words sounded like icy cold coming from her mouth, and Octavia regretted them the moment they left. Fortunately, they seemed to snap the other pony from his reverie.

“O-Oh! Yeah!” With little warning, he lowered his tall form to the floor, bowing towards Octavia. “M-My name is Drifter of Cloudsdale, your majesty! I-I-I had arranged to see you a week ago. I’m sorry for disturbing you. I-I’ll just come back later!” Then, with as much notice as before, he lifted his nose off of the ground and started to turn from Octavia. The gray alicorn reacted.

“Wait!” She cried. The pegasus froze on his hooves, nearly tripping over himself as he did so. His gaze whirled towards her, panic evident across his face. The newfound distance between them had helped reduce the awkwardness a little. “Wait, please,” Octavia spoke again, doing her utmost to relieve some of the tension in the air. She took several deep breaths before attempting to speak again, slowly closing and reopening her eyes. This gave her a moment to take in the image of the pegasus.

Drifter, as he called himself himself, had a sky blue coat and a dark gray mane hanging from his head and extending down his neck. It was surprisingly long for a male, enough so that it was tucked behind his ears to avoid covering his eyes. Besides that, it was unstyled. He appeared well-kept and very clean, perhaps having taken a bath in anticipation of meeting royalty.

One of his wings was extended outwards, as Octavia had recently come to realize was normal for pegasi in situations of high emotion. It appeared smaller than her own, though he wasn’t a recently-ascended alicorn. What gave Octavia a bit more pause was that only one of his wings was extended. She internally winced.

“Oh,” Octavia spoke the words before she could stop herself. Her body gave just as much warning, starting to abruptly but lightly trot to the side of the frozen stallion. As she got closer, Octavia confirmed exactly what she had feared.

An ugly stump was sitting on the stallion’s side, staring back at her with a dark snarl. It was easy to notice once it met her eyes, and once it did it was near-impossible to break eye contact with. Pity overtook her.

“Yeah, a lot of ponies do that.” Drifter seemed less panicked. Melancholy overtook his voice and features, sucking the energy out of him. It grabbed Octavia’s attention. She turned to see the stallion looking back at her. He was by no means relaxed--far from it. He did, however, appear far more docile than the high strung pony Octavia had witnessed only moments ago. Then again, she was sure she had appeared similarly to the one-winged pegasus.

“What do you mean?” Octavia asked. Drifter began to explain before she could take her question back.

“My missing wing,” he noted. The stump waved up and down, as if trying to flap a ghostly appendage. It only made it appear more threatening. Drifter saw through the quick façade Octavia attempted to produce. “Once any pony sees it, it’s all they can see. Keeps me out of the air and makes me stick out of a crowd. Not exactly what I call a great combination.”

“May I… inquire as to how this happened?” Octavia could not stop herself. She was fascinated by the oddity of it, though she could at least keep herself from saying as much aloud. Then again, Drifter appeared to be reciting from a script. It only made her feel worse.

“Flying accident,” he noted before giving more detail. “There was a stray thundercloud that had escaped a good dousing for a few days. I went to go take care of it, but I was just a new hire, and I didn’t know a thing about how to handle it. I just bucked it like it was any other cloud, and… well, I guess it kinda bucked back.” He laughed at his own words. It sounded hollow to Octavia. Like a piano with missing keys.

“I’m sorry, your majesty. I… I just really didn’t want to come here to show you this.” The title was what finally broke Octavia from her curiosity-induced state.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, but I owe you some honesty as well.” Octavia bowed to Drifter, which she was sure was sending the stallion into a panicked stated once more. “I am not Princess Twilight. My name is Octavia Melody. I am merely a guest of Princess Twilight.”

“O-Oh. Oh…” Drifter responded simply, dejectedly. It was short-lived. “Oh! Oh!!” He quickly righted himself and began to speak further. “Then you must be a princess visiting from another kingdom.” He put his snout to the floor in a flash. Octavia was beginning to both understand Twilight’s dislike for her title and become confused as to how Luna and Celestia could handle it so easily.

“My sincerest apologies for confusing you for Princess Twilight, your majesty.” Drifter continued to bow, making Octavia’s discomfort grow. “I-I’m new in town--brand new--just off the train--and I wanted to talk to Princess Twilight. I wanted her help with something that happened before I got here, b-but if she’s busy, I can come back later. I-Ipromise!” Octavia waved her hoof.

“You are wrong on all accounts, Drifter,” she began to explain. “I am no princess, and I have few friends, let alone my own kingdom. My meeting with Princess Twilight was convened post-haste, so I am sure any means to contact you were delivered just as quickly. Any inconvenience that has fallen on you is as much my fault as anypony’s. For that, I apologize.”

“O-Oh… O-Okay…” Octavia could tell Drifter was used to being told of his own errors with that hesitant reply. Likely he was near the bottom of most pecking orders. “Um… then… how did you…?” His hooved waved around in her direction, and Octavia understood his question immediately.

“In honesty, I do not know.” Octavia shook her head in dejection. She ruffled her gray wings, attempting to fold them back against her sides. It still felt like controlling a limb that was asleep. “I have been conversing with the princesses about this. There has yet to be any reason found for why I have become the way I am now. All I can tell you is that not but a week and two days ago I was an earth pony performing in Canterlot’s Orchestra. I woke up one morning, and now I’m…this.”

“Wow… that’s… that’s pretty cool actually.” He chuckled lightly. His laugh, unlike his last, was much less uncomfortable and much more lively. “Waking up with more limbs. I-I don’t mean to be rude, but… I am kind of jealous.” Octavia didn’t doubt it. She frowned, some of the earlier awkwardness returning.

“I do apologize once more for the manner in which we met. Please, let us start again.” Straightening herself and making sure her wings were secure, Octavia spoke on. “My name is Octavia, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Drifter.” She extended a hoof towards the pegasus. He smiled genuinely before taking it.

“The same!” There was clear comfort in his voice. “It’s great to meet you!” They shook their forelimbs, smiling at one another. She released her hoof first, knowing that he was following her lead. It felt nice, if Octavia was to be honest, to finally be leading more than following for a change. Drifter spoke up. “So, um… where is Princess Twilight?”

“Drifter!” Speak of the devil. Perhaps, thinking on it, that was not the best way to describe Twilight.

Octavia turned, already recognizing the voice. Sure enough, Twilight was quickly trotting into the room. She neared a gallop the closer she got. There was a deep look of worry on Twilight’s features, most likely over there having been an error of some sort. Octavia had seen enough of the princess to know how she acts in the face of her own mistakes.

“Drifter, I am so sorry!” The lavender alicorn bowed to the pegasus. “Spike and I completely forgot to send you a request for moving your court appearance with us. I’m afraid there really isn’t any time to address the matter you needed me for.”

“Um, I… I-I understand, your majesty.” His nervous tone was back in an instant. Octavia imagined it came from seeing the true Princess Twilight. “Octavia told me what happened. I thought she was you at first, and then another princess, and then I thought I made a mistake, which I did, but not the kind that I thought I did. Now I know what’s going on, and I’m sorry that this happened.” It was a rambling apology, but Twilight took it with grace.

“No, Drifter, this is clearly my fault.You shouldn’t blame yourself for this, and I want to make it up to you.” Twilight flashed her horn, making a small piece of parchment appear in the air. Octavia wondered briefly how many hours of practice it would take before she could do that. “This is a reschedule for our meeting. I’ve added an extra two hours, so we can really work through what’s going on. I’ll do everything that I can to help.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” Drifter gave his relieved reply, bowing once more. Octavia saw the unease settle over Twilight’s muzzle. She enjoyed helping, but she clearly hated the glorified praise. Regardless, Drifter took the letter from the princess’s aura, holding it in his hooves to read it and reread it. “I’ll be sure to come by this time, and thank you once more.”

“Likewise. And thank you. Now, Octavia,” Twilight spoke, turning towards the gray alicorn. “We have to hurry. Pinkie Pie needs me to help her set up, and the rest of the girls want to meet you.” Before she could respond, she saw Drifter giving an oddly-excited grin directed at her.

“You’re going to Pinkie Pie’s party?” He asked the already-answered question. “Oh colt, no one throws a party like her. I’m sure you’re gonna have a blast.” At her quizzical look, he explained. “Pinkie basically ambushed me when I got off the train a couple of days ago. I think she was expecting me or something.”

“She does that with all new ponies,” Twilight explained, still slowly moving towards the door with Octavia closely in tow. The gray alicorn listened as she followed. “Any pony in Ponyville is a friend of Pinkie Pie, and you're no exception to that, Drifter.” The look of relief that washed over the stallion’s face was unmistakable.

But so was the distance that was now between Octavia and the pegasus. He was even waving to her. Clearly Twilight had a penchant for timing.

“Have a fun time!” Drifter called after her. “Experience says there’s no party like a Pinkie Pie party!” A fit of muffled giggles came from Twilight, though Octavia didn’t get it.

Either way, she was sure of her ability to handle anything the pink mare threw at her. After all, she had Vinyl for a roommate.

“Are you still unwell, Octavia?” Princess Luna’s address to the younger alicorn had an overtone of concern.

A groan of pain came from said alicorn. Octavia was slumped over a elegantly-stitched, generously stuffed and body sized pillow. It would have been a heavenly fit if her stomach was not currently in the midst of an internal battle. Her throat made a lurch against the violent rumblings of something inside her.

“I will assume that is a yes.” Luna gave an off-put pout. Octavia lightly nodded towards the elder alicorn.

In truth, Octavia was more mortified than she was sick. Here she was in the private chambers of what was not only one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria, but also one of the most ancient and revered. There was no metaphor for how she felt. This was the metaphor.

“If you like, we could postpone this meeting until a later date. There is no benefit to holding this meeting while you are in pain.” Octavia shook her head slowly and heavily before answering.

“No, no. It is alright,” she denied even as another cramp pulled at her gut. “It’s my mistake for eating too many sweets.” The gray alicorn groaned, setting her head back down on the pillow. “Nopony warned me Pinkie Pie was a master at baking.”

“If it affords you peace of mind, my sister has had to bar herself from the pink one’s parties when she can help it.” Octavia twisted her head until she was looking up at Luna. She was only too glad that the dark princess cared little for proper form and stature at this moment. Octavia doubted she could have lifted her head up without regurgitating the baked goods.

“Why is that?” she questioned. The smile that settled over Luna’s lips was immediate, obvious, and undeniably dastardly. Simply put, it was the grin a sister held when they knew a weakness in their sibling. Octavia had seen Vinyl give such a look to her many times before.

“It is commonly said that ponies have a sweet tooth, correct?” Octavia weakly nodded, unsure of where Luna was heading. The dark alicorn straightened herself, finishing with a coy smile. “My sister has a mouth full of them.” Octavia couldn’t help the giggle that sputtered out from her lips, painful as it was.

“Vinyl can be like that at times.” Octavia admitted, doing her utmost to maintain some composure and posture in the presence of the princess. “If it were not for me, she would likely dine solely on hard cider and sweetened corn for days on end.” Luna laughed at the remark, a sound that made Octavia smile as well. Suddenly the room’s tension eased dramatically.

It felt odd, but not uncomfortable, to know that she was able to entertain one of Canterlot’s diarchs with simple stories of her life.

“However, Octavia, there is a reason why we must speak now.” The playful tone in Luna’s words evaporated, the familiar voice of the diarch taking command. Octavia, with some effort, was successful in righting herself. Her lower stomach protested harshly, but she would likely appease it later with some water and a long nap. “Twilight tells me you have been achieving great strides in your magical practice. Is this true?” Octavia nodded.

“Yes. I have been making significant strides, though I am still far from accomplished.” Luna gave a very authoritative nod at the gray alicorn’s words.

“As is to be expected,” she responded. “Magic is not a skill to be mastered all at once. No true skill exists as such. However, I believe that you may be able to focus on a task aside from magic.” Octavia wasn’t sure how to process the words.

“Your majesty, I… I don’t believe I understand what you are referring to.”

Luna raised her hoof at Octavia’s inquiry, shaking her head in disappointment.
“Forgive me, I phrased my words poorly. What I mean to say is that you should focus on a new task in place of magic. Spend fewer hours on controlling the strength of your horn and more on something of equal importance.” As soon as the word ‘equal’ was spoken, Octavia knew exactly what Luna meant.

The wings on her back shook uneasily, as if they had a mind of their own and they understood what that conversation entailed. Luna nodded towards them.

“You have gained much practice in your magic.” Luna thought the better of the statement. “You are now able to control it, in the very least. But your wings are quite another matter.” Luna’s own wings unfolded from her crouched position, making her already impressive form near-imposing in size. They beat once, pushing air through the room and sending a cold chill down Octavia’s coat. It felt unlike anything she’d experienced before. “As with your magic, it is inappropriate to say that you will master flight quickly, but you should learn at most how to control them. They are a part of your body now.”

“Yes... yes. That makes sense, and I do agree.” Octavia truthfully did. “But who will teach me?” Surprisingly, Luna shrugged.

“That is not for me to decide,” the dark alicorn responded. “Again, as with your magic, whom you will learn from is a matter of your own choosing. I am hear to help and guide you, and I can teach you should you so wish, but there are many ponies throughout our kingdom capable of teaching you the ways of flight. I have no doubt that they will jump at the chance to teach a mare such as yourself how to fly.”

Flight. It still sounded like a dream she would have had as a filly. Being able to fly by her own will, not strapped to any chariot or carried by some stallion. Having nothing beneath her hooves but the clouds in the sky. Her wings beating--carrying her. Though she might have preferred the idea of the utility of magic to the power of flight, she would have been remiss to say she was not looking forward to the sensation of flying more than that of casting.

“I can see the idea entertains you.” A hot blush overtook Octavia, her head immediately ducking under the lunar alicorn’s teasing. She made a mental note not to display her daydreams so clearly. The giggle that came afterwards only made the gray alicorn’s cheeks redden further. “Please do not mind. Many ponies who are earthly bound find joy in the idea of flight. You are very fortunate to be able to enjoy such a gift.”

“Yes… Yes I am…” Octavia snuggled deeper into her pillow, ignoring the pain in her stomach. It had subsided somewhat. Hopefully, it would go down further before the meeting’s end. “And it seems I have need to thank you once more, your highness.”

“No, you do not,” Luna declined. “You are a mare under my charge, a pony that seeks my aide. It is I who should be thankful. You offer me trust, something I will admit to occasionally missing since my return from banishment.” The words earned a look of subdued shock from Octavia. Her lips parted slightly and her eyes widened.

“You mean other ponies don’t?” Octavia questioned, clearly in disbelief. “How could they not?” Now it was Luna’s turn to look away from her fellow alicorn.

“Time may heal all wounds, but the memories of them forever remain.” It was a cryptic response, but one that Octavia understood nevertheless. “It is a subject I think ill of. I would prefer if we moved to another topic, if you please.”

Princess Luna stood up, rising to her tallest form and neatly folding her wings. Even her walk was elegant, quickly reaching the mare with the sore stomach still sitting on the heavenly pillow. Luna lowered herself to Octavia’s height, smiling kindly at the younger alicorn.

“Now, Octavia, who would you wish to teach you flight?”

Author's Note

Poll Question 2:
Who should teach Octavia about her wings?
A) Princess Luna
B) Rainbow Dash
C) Spitfire
D) Derpy Hooves

All answers will be tallied and counted within two weeks of this chapter's posting. The decision will decide the next and future chapters. Think carefully!

The Loop

“Truly, Your Majesty, I cannot thank you enough for accepting my request.” Though she spoke with the same formal tongue her parents had impressed onto her, Octavia at least did so without placing her head upon the floor. Luna took it in stride, knowing better than others how old habits died hard.

“And as I have told you, young Octavia, I am honored as well that you have chosen me to teach you.” The dark alicorn smiled, a subtle expression that genuinely pulled at her lips. “It is why I also understand your request for another teacher between us.”

The cellist erupted into a hot blush, looking away from the alicorn, though for not out of respect. As there was a pattern of speech her mother had taught her to adopt in the presence of royalty, so too were there actions she was warned against committing. Favoring the aid of another teacher over royalty may not have been specifically stated in those warnings, but it was as close to biting a gift horse’s hoof as Octavia could imagine.

“I mean no disrespect towards your abilities, princess,” Octavia began to defend, in a manner very similar to how she had done for the last several days. Luna was already wise to it, and took no offense.

“You believe that it would be best to also be taught by another who is not as adept as I in flight.” Octavia pursed her lips at Luna’s finishing of her thought. The princess, as she had been before, was grinning with her words. “And as I have said, Octavia, there is no reason for you to be embarrassed or shamed. Just as Twilight was open and prepared to teach alongside your friend Vinyl, so too am I willing to teach you flight with another.”

“I… I thank you for your understanding, your majesty.” Octavia spoke again, unaware of how needless it was to parrot.

The young alicorn looked about herself, unwilling to speak further on the matter but unknowing of any topics to continue into. Instead, she took to observing the environment. Currently the two were waiting in a particularly spacious portion of the Royal Gardens. The sun was bright and warm above them. Just enough for Octavia’s coat to keep her insulated, but not enough to make her sweat. It was, as she often called it, a gentle warmth.

Luna appeared to be appreciating it, too. The thought occurred to Octavia that the princess must need sleep, but she was so far unaware of the princess’s schedule, let alone how she managed her own care amongst it, that she figured it would best be left to the princess herself. It wasn’t her place to ask such personal questions, anyway. She could only do what every other pony and socialite would do from afar. Speculate.

At the moment, however, there were other things that came to the forefront of her mind. Specifically, who Princess Luna would ask to help her in her flight lessons. Unlike her magic, which Twilight and Vinyl were only too eager to help with, there wasn’t a second pony that jumped to her mind as adept at teaching. She doubted the princess would bring in a military instructor-- at least, she hoped she wouldn’t. The princess had been kind thus far regarding such things, but the thought still made her uneasy.

Lessons in the middle of the day, however, probably the meant either the pony’s occupation was going to be teaching or they were unemployed, as the midday hours were usually reserved for work. Octavia herself was just glad that it took only a word from the diarchy to have her be excused from the Symphony-- on a sabbatical, of sorts. Octavia loathed missing time to play her cello, but she would be remiss to say she was doing so without purpose.

“Are you well, Octavia? You have a tight expression.” It took those words for Octavia to realize how far she had pursed her lips in thought. They were nearly numb from the force. She flapped them soundlessly, failing to grab a word that could properly express her sympathies. This only earned a small chuckle from the eye-rolling princess Luna.

“Please, do not take my words as serious,” Luna explained. “Just as you have been practicing with your new abilities, I have been attempting to grasp the current forms of humor among the ponies.” Octavia wouldn’t admit it, but humor was the last thing she had heard in the princess’s words. Spoken or not, Luna appeared to have read her thoughts. “It seems... I still have some work to do.”

“B-But it’s good that you are learning!” Octavia spoke back far more loudly than she intended. A hoof over her shocked expression was sign enough that she didn’t intend to raise her voice, let alone her embarrassingly-blushed muzzle. Luna only gazed at her with a quirked eyebrow. Octavia, rather shakily, raked her raised hoof through her long dark mane, attempting fruitlessly to look as if it was her intent all along.

“I am glad you agree.” Luna’s words pulled Octavia’s attention back towards her. The princess, however, was looking up and away. It took the alicorn a moment to relaize she was looking slightly off from the sun itself. It appeared not even the princess was immune to the strain of staring directly into the sun. “My sister has been excellent in her ability to both learn with her ponies and lead them as well. I am still leagues behind her in that regard.” It was faint -- small, even -- but Octavia could almost tell what Luna’s was really trying to convey.

“You… Your highness,” Octavia expertly maneuvered her words, dodging an informal inquiry with a proper one. “Though I confess I knew little of you before… this occurred,” the gray alicorn gestured to her wings before she continued. “I can say with certainty that I am glad to have you helping me with this. I... don’t believe there are many ponies I can trust with such secrets, but I know that you are among them.”

Luna blinked at her words.

Octavia felt her mouth quickly drying at the sight of the small smile the dairch had held thus far slowly left, replaced instead by a neutral line across her dark lips. The muscles along her features relaxed, showing not an expression of surprise, but one most closely associated with dull acceptance. There was nothing wholly threatening about it, but Octavia still felt every hair on her coat and feather in her wings stand straight and shiver at the sight.

Then, slowly, Luna released a breath of air. It wasn’t a sigh, not fully. It was more akin to a wave of her hoof or blink of her eyes than anything else. The small smile that returned to her lips afterwards, however, was far more welcome.

“I thank you, Octavia Melody,” Princess Luna finally spoke, her not looking at the younger alicorn as she spoke. “It has been some time since I have been included in… such a way.” A small gust of wind rolled through the garden as she spoke, letting her coat wave in a manner similar to the her ethereal mane. Stray leaves and petals were taken in by the gust, silhouetting Luna’s already-pristine form.

As the princess turned her gaze back upon Octavia, smiling cleverly as she did so, Octavia couldn’t help a stray thought, an invading thought, from drifting through and out of her mind.

‘Beautiful’ A hot blush ran across Octavia’s coat, forcing her wings to expand in order to let off the excess heat. The actions of her wings, however, only forced her embarrassment to deepen, leaving Octavia’s face near the ground in shame. Luna’s laughter brought her back.

“Please, young Octavia, you can relax,” The alicorn lightly trotted over to the younger mare’s side, stopping only when she was but a hoof’s length away. “It appears that your other instructor has arrived.”

The words made Octavia raise instantly, suddenly more focused on her first appearance to her new instructor than the already past embarrassment to the princess. The gray alicorn took in a few deep breaths of air, steadying her pulse and collecting herself. Her wings slowly retracted against her body, more out of the calm she had reacquired than her own will.

Feeling slightly more adventurous with her skills, Octavia slowly focused a melody through her mind, a lone solo of a cellist in her apartment. It drew an equally-focused surge of magic through her horn, lightly catching the strands of her mane and tail. Like the strings of any instrument, her magic pulled them taunt, holding them steady as she curled them at their points.

She could feel Luna’s eyes upon her, watching her out of either interest or admiration. She ignored the fact that it was Princess Luna gazing at her. Octavia had learned her own lessons at Princess Twilight’s castle, and one of those lessons was the constant reminder that her greatest magic came when she was focused, focused not on the magic, but the music.

Princess Luna was not the great diarch, she was simply another member of the audience, appreciating her music. While Luna was doubtlessly watching her magic unfold and judging it as such, Octavia imagined her not as a princess, but an equal member of a larger audience.

But like any true solo, it was not meant to last next to the great sound of the symphony. But again, she was not meant to conduct the symphony just yet. She only needed to clean herself up, and she was only too grateful she had learned her magic well enough to complete such a task.

Her magic finished with the light pluck of a high string, and Octavia re-opened her eyes. Surely enough, Luna was smiling down upon her, likely more out of pride than amusement. Octavia took it in as an audience’s applause.

The pegasus next to the princess, however, showed far more awe than pride.

It took Octavia a full moment to even realize she was there. The mare had a gray coat like herself, but of a lighter tint. Her mane was just the opposite, however, resting on her head with a light gold color. It reflected off of the mare’s eyes as well, both bright gold in color, and radiating cheerfulness. The eyes, however, had a far more distinguishing feature about them..

Specifically, they way they looked in opposite directions.

Octavia was loathed to admit it, but it was a little unnerving.

“Wow!” The gray pegasus let out. She blinked her misdirected eyes, seemingly staring forward yet looking in two different directions. “Your magic was really cool!” The pegasus’s wings flapped lightly, as if to add emphasis to her words. “My little Dinky is learning magic, too. She’s really talented, just like you.” Four sentences in, and Octavia was still at a loss for words.

“Octavia,” Luna spoke beside the pegasus. “This is one Ditzy Doo, mail-mare and experienced flier for Ponyville.” Instead of holding out a hoof to shake with, said pegasus only nodded her head, confirming the information Luna spoke. “I inquired with a friend from Ponyville for a patient flight instructor and she gave Ditzy a glowing recommendation.”

“Yup, Fluttershy’s a nice pony,” Ditzy closed her eyes as she nodded. “She babysits Dinky when I work. She likes her, too.”

“I… It’s a pleasure to meet you… Ditzy,” Octavia spoke the words carefully, fully aware how easily she was tripping over herself.

On one hoof, she knew full well how stupid it was for her to be speaking or acting in such a way. She’d been instructed since a young age how appearances are nothing more than a veil for who a pony truly was, like the case to a grand instrument. For her to be acting oddly around Ditzy was nothing short of rude. But on the other hoof, she had no idea how she should act around the wall-eyed pegasus.

“You can call me Derpy,” Ditzy’s almost chipper tone brought Octavia right back. “Most other ponies do.”

“Are you… alright with that?” Most foals would realize the mockery that came with a name such as Derpy. Ditzy, on the other hoof, only seemed to smile with her mismatched gaze. She even giggled at the question.

“It makes them smile.” With her simple answer, she turned her head, gazing in some manner at another object in the garden. One of her eyes must have caught her, a bright smile pulling at her lips as she did.

Without so much as a word of warning, the pegasus flapped her wings, pulling herself into the air as she looked over a low hanging tree. She settled on it easily, staring at a particularly ripe piece of fruit. Octavia stared up at her, Luna still smiling just beside her.

“Princess,” Octavia began. “I am not one to question your judgement, but…” She let the question hang. She knew Luna was wise, so finishing an open statement such as hers would not be difficult, though she was afraid Luna might take offense. Octavia was glad her suspicions were false.

“I understand your hesitance to learn from one such as Ditzy, as she is not the most… focused of mares. But,” Luna looked directly at Octavia now. Her calm smile was still in place, preventing her words from being barbed. “She is a devoted mother of a unicorn filly, and a single mother as well. She has patience on a level most other ponies could never bear and empathy that only the young Fluttershy could possibly compare to.”

Octavia continued to look up at Ditzy, who was currently pulling at the fruit from the tree with both of her hooves. It remained stubbornly in place, despite the now powerful flexions of her wings. Octavia had to admit, as animated as the pegasus’s attempt was at getting the fruit, the tree was holding onto it rather tightly.

With a light snap, the pegasus was sent tumbling backwards in the air. A momentary sense of panic overcame Octavia, her mind’s eye seeing the pegasus impacting the unforgiving ground. Her fear was, thankfully, needless.

After a few short and quick flips through the air, the Ditzy righted herself, flapping her wings as she held her prize fruit in her hooves. She bite into it like an eager filly.

“She is, also, a highly skilled flier.” Octavia’s head lowered to the ground, shame overtaking her once more. Luna noticed near-immediately. “Octavia, what is wrong?”

“I’m sorry, your highness, I am,” Octavia apologized before she spoke her reasoning. “I… I didn’t think highly of Ditzy when I first saw her. Her appearance was all I saw.” Admitting it aloud only seemed to strengthen the disappointment in herself.

“There is nothing to forgive.” The words shocked Octavia. She was sure that if any pony would call fault for assuming based upon appearances, it would be the Princess of the Night, the once-banished princess. Though, when the younger alicorn looked up, all she saw was the same smiling, understanding features of the dark alicorn. “You did not see fault or shame, you merely did not see her as majestic. There are many ponies, myself included, that would be thankful to be seen in such a way.”

A sigh left Octavia’s lips. Her wings drifted down with the action nearly brushing against the grass as she did. Luna’s words were quite relieving.

“You okay, Octavia?” The question came just above the gray alicorn, and she lifted her head to see the speaker.

She came nose to nose with Ditzy, staring at her those same two mismatched eyes.

Octavia let out a small yelp of surprise, backing up at the sudden intrusion of her space. Her wings lifted and pushed against the air, aiding her in her retreat. Unfortunately, the combination of their size, strength, and still lack of knowledge on how to use them made her retreat more of a tumble.

“Gah!” Octavia let out a muffled cry as she fell backwards, landing only for her momentum to carry around like a wheel. She felt flowers being crushed beneath her body and more than a few stray blades of grass tangling in her mane. She was only glad it was a short fall, as she stopped turning after a single spin.

Octavia landed ungracefully on her stomach, limbs flailed out and wings splayed on the grass. She groaned inwardly, tucking her head down. Not only had she put herself into such an embarrassing position, she had done it in front of Princess Luna and a mare that barely knew her. She doubtlessly looked like a fool.

The laughter that came from above her didn’t help.

“Ha ha ha! That looked fun!” Octavia could tell it was Ditzy that was speaking to her, but she honestly couldn’t tell how sincere the mare was. “You looked like my little Dinky when she’s playing. She laughs a lot when she plays.” The words, thankfully, bent her sincerity in a more positive light. However, Octavia wasn’t sure what made her feel more uncomfortable: being compared to a foal, or feeling like one

Weakly, she looked up, preparing for the gold-maned mare’s close proximity. Though Ditzy was nearly eye to eye with her now, she was not as shocked as she was before.

The mare had one of her miss-directed eyes on her, staring at Octavia as if they had known each other for years. It felt oddly similar to how she first met Vinyl, though the unicorn was a little conscious of personal space, at least for first meetings. Ditzy didn’t seem to have that.

Octavia’s mind halted slightly as she saw Ditzy’s small grin turn downwards.

“Oh no,” the mare let out in almost childish voice. “Your mane is all bad.” Octavia didn’t know how to process that.

“I…I-I beg your pardon?” Ditzy either ignored her or didn’t hear. She suspected the former. The gray pegasus was already maneuvering around her, stopping only when she was by Octavia’s side. Settling herself on the ground, Derpy unfolded her wings, reaching them towards Octavia.

The gray alicorn remained still, caught between being perplexed and cautious. Carefully, like a spring breeze, she felt the feathers of the pegasi reach through her long mane, rubbing through them daintily. Each careful pull of the feathers massaged Octavia’s scalp, soothing her nerves and straightening her mane. For a few moments, nopony moved as Octavia let Ditzy slowly stroke the feathers through her mane. It was the most relaxed she had felt in a while.

“Dinky likes it when I do this, too.” Ditzy spoke in motherly tone to Octavia. The gray alicorn was surprised at the mature, even motherly tone coming from her. What she said next affirmed her curiosities. “She gets dirty a lot at school. She likes it when I clean her up. It helps her sleep, too.”

“You… You are quite skilled at this,” Octavia spoke the most complimentary yet restrained words she could think of. It was honestly a challenge at this point not to fall asleep.

A voice suddenly spoke up from beside her.

“Relaxing, is it not?” And just like that, Octavia was wide awake again.

She bolted up right, rising to her hooves in a flash. A small yelp of surprise was sputtered from behind her, and now it was Octavia’s turn to see Ditzy laying on the ground, her wall-eyes looking up in surprise.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ditzy!” Octavia earnestly replied as she extended a hoof to the pegasus. Said mare blinked before she took the hoof, grinning up at Octavia as she did so.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I’m okay. And you look pretty again, so everything is okay!” It was, once more, a childish thing to say, but Octavia took in stride. She smiled lightly in return.

“Yes… and I thank you for it.” The kind words only made Ditzy beam brighter, her eyes shutting to extend the range her mouth could grin. Turning back to the Princess of the Night, Octavia saw Luna smiling down at her, an expression the gray alicorn was becoming thankful to see.

“I am glad that you two are becoming fast friends.” Octavia could tell immediately that it was another modern phrase Luna was attempting to use properly. It was a good attempt, but with her manner of speaking it fell a little flat. “It will make the coming lessons easier to process.”

“Of course,” Octavia agreed. “Lessons learned from peers are far more effective than those learned from an unpleasant teacher.”

“That’s a funny word, peer.” Ditzy giggled at the word as she spoke, Octavia gave the pegasus a curious eye. She saw one of the mare’s wall-eyes looking at her. She didn’t know where the other was looking. “Sounds like something that should be on the water, or maybe that soft fruit Dinky likes. They taste sweet.” It took Octavia a moment to realize what Derpy was speaking of.

“Oh,” the gray alicorn let out. “You mean a pear.” Ditzy nodded her head excitedly at the word.

“Yup, she loves them. Can’t have a breakfast without one.” Octavia watched as a serene smile pulled at the mare’s lips. She didn’t have to guess to figure she was recalling a fond memory. “It’s nice to have things you like. They make the hard things easier to deal with.”

Octavia could find no fault in those words.

“Before we verge further from the matter at hoof,” Luna began, earning the attention of the two gray mares. “I believe we should begin the lessons now, as long as you are properly prepared.” Octavia found the princess’s eyes on her, but she could find no reason to shirk nor shy away. Instead, she felt warm beneath the kind gaze.

“It can be tough learning something new,” Ditzy warned Octavia in an undeniably maternal tone. It was the kind of hoof-waving voice her mother would have given her were she a couple of decades younger. Octavia suspected for a moment that Derpy may very well be seeing her akin to her little Dinky, but she reminded herself the mare was sight challenged, not hallucinating. “You have to make sure you stick with it, even when it gets rough. Do you think you can do it?”

“Absolutely,” Octavia replied, already sure of herself. She smiled to both Ditzy and Luna, noting the proud stance of the latter and prepared stance of the former. “I have never shied away from a climb because the hill may be steep, and I do not intend to start now.”

“Wise words, and confident ones as well,” Luna spoke in agreement with Octavia. She was nodding her head towards the younger alicorn, dark form silhouetted by the sun. “I look forward to the coming lessons.”

“Same here!” Ditzy gave a small cheer from between the two alicorns. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to treat every boo boo you get.” Octavia smiled at the good-natured words of the pegasus. Derpy beamed back at her, wall-eyes looking in two different directions from one another.

“Do not fret,” Octavia spoke with an air of confidence. “I am sure I will get this.”

Octavia was not getting it.

Two weeks.

Two long and hard weeks of practice under the sun from midday to dusk and she had yet to do any more than lift herself off the air. She still floundered about like a fish out of water, near flipping at any moment she attempted to right herself, and hitting the ground far more than once.

To be specific, she had crashed into a tree, slammed into the ground, managed to trip over more than stray cloud in the air, caught her mane in at least a dozen tree limbs, and plummeted to the dirt after an unsuccessful writing no less than three dozen times.

At least Ditzy was true to her word on treating her boo boos. When she got back home after the first day, Vinyl very nearly thought Octavia had been mugged. It was humorous in a morbid sort of way, but the cellist was quickly beginning to miss the tasks that came with her magic training.

At least the most pain she experienced in magic was a momentary headache. Right now, for example, Octavia was barely hanging in the air; her wings feeling as if they had deadweights tied to them and her coat damp with enough sweat to make her look as if she had climbed her way out of a swimming pool.

If Vinyl were there, she would have doubtlessly been laughing her pretty purple glasses off. Octavia, on the other hand, was not so entertained.

“You have to relax,” Ditzy instructed Octavia. She was hanging in the air with a steady beat of her wings, Luna looking down at them both from a dark cloud above them. Octavia was still irregularly moving her wings, twisting from side to side as she attempted to right herself.

“Here, just take a deep breath.” Ditzy mimicked her words, taking a large gulp of air in before breathing it out. Her chest expanded and shrunk with the movements, head rising with every intake, then lowering with every exhale. Her wings never missed a beat.

Octavia’s attempt to copy the act resulted in only a rapid pace breathing, more akin to a hyperventilation then meditation. Ditzy shook her head, pouting her lips as she did so.

“No, no, you got to take deep breaths.” She emphasized the words before performing the action again. “Deep breaths, like you just saw your crush in the shower!”

That was enough for Octavia to suck in a breath of air. Unfortunately, she lacked the ability to release it.

She felt her wings tighten up once more, deprived of oxygen for a millisecond too long, and the ground was rushing up to embrace her again. The fledgling alicorn shut her eyes, flexing her already-tight muscles before she felt in the impact of the ground.

However, after a few moments passed by without the familiar impact of a fall, she opened her eyes to see herself suspended in a curtain of magic. She sighed, already knowing again what had happened.

“You have enough contusions upon your form already,” the formal voice of Luna spoke. The dark alicorn hovered to the ground not a moment later, gracefully ending her short flight with a small trot of her hooves. She stopped when she was but a foreleg’s reach from the suspended mare. Luna’s horn was alight with the same dark blue magic as the ethereal net Octavia was caught in. “There is no need to add another.”

“Thank you Luna,” Octavia spoke honestly, but tiredly. She was not enjoying being caught in such a manner, not after the eleventh time the princess had taken it upon her to save her from more welts. “I do appreciate it.”

“Are you okay?” Ditzy joined the pair not a moment later. Her head flicked momentarily to move her golden mane out of one of her skewed eyes. Apparently it was the eye that was trying to look at them. Her look was absolutely sheepish. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t so much scare me as you did startle me Ditzy,” Octavia had a calm smile on her lips as she spoke to the gray pegasus. She settled her hooves on the ground as Luna cast her magic aside. “Honestly, of all the things to say, I least expected you to say that.”

“You are improving though,” Ditzy offered in return through a giggle. “You don’t need me or Luna to lift you up. That’s good, right?” Octavia nodded, agreeing with the words.

“Yes, that it is a bit reassuring.” The gray alicorn agreed as she unfolded her wings, turning her head to gaze at them. Outside of her vision, Luna and Ditzy did much the same.

“The strength in yours wings is vastly improving, young Octavia,” Luna offered honestly and kindly. “As we have said, the hardest part of this would be developing the limbs. It is difficult to maintain flight if your muscles do not have the strength to lift you.”

“Yes, well…” Octavia began and rolled off, unsure of where she was going to go with her words.

True as the princess had spoken, her wings had grown to an almost observable degree. They were the same in size, no further out from her body nor taller in appearance, but they were more defined. The once-thin, almost atrophied muscles that sat beneath her coat were now pushing outward, displaying the increased strength in the new limbs.

She gave the pair of feathery appendages a few flaps, feeling the ground beneath her feet momentarily leave her at the force they generated. It was a far cry from the almost hurricane-like winds Luna could generate, but it was enough to make Octavia smile at the accomplishment. If nothing else, she could at least control the fowled wings.

Octavia blinked as a stubborn drop of sweat swam down her forehead and into her eye, making the mare twist her head and blink in discomfort. Her wings folded themselves back against her body as she did so. She heard Ditzy ask a question, but it was only then that Octavia realized her ears were folded against her head. She must have looked quite uncomfortable.

It took only a small amount of time for her to think of her cello, imagining the precious instrument singing through her mind. In tandem with the notes, her gray magic began to reach outwards, wrapping around her coat like a dry blanket. She shut her eyes to both concentrate and prevent any more pellets from dripping into her gaze.

The notes in her mind began to rise across the chords, ascending from a low C to a high D. As it did, the magic about her spiraled, picking up the stray amounts of sweat that glistened on her coat. She could feel the moisture leave her, returning Octavia Melody to her usual and well-refined appearance. Nonetheless, her muscles still hurt.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the miss-matched gaze of Ditzy less than a breath’s length from her own. Octavia sighed, already too used to the sudden invasion of space to be very affected.

“That was amazing, Octavia!” The pegasus complemented, no damper on her excitement. “You made your magic go all ‘whooooosh’ around you then ‘poff’, you’re dry!” The mare sat on her back haunches, pushing her forelimbs into the air as she finished her statement. Oddly enough, Octavia appreciated the childlike description of her magic. It was almost preferred in a way to the overanalyzing, yet enthusiastic monologue Princess Twilight might give her.

“I must admit, young Octavia, the way you conduct your magic is fairly unique.” Octavia looked to Luna and gave a small, but respectful bow of her head. She knew well enough by now how little Luna appreciated such signs from her friends, but this was different. Octavia was bowing out of thanks, not respect… or… wait…

“Conduct, your highness?” The word was not improper, it was merely odd. She had never heard Vinyl, Twilight, or even Princess Celestia once refer to using magic as conducting. They called it calling, directing, at best performing, but never conducting. A knowing, yet kind, smile pull at Luna’s features.

“Indeed, conducting,” Luna repeated the word. “You do not perform your magic as my sister or her students would expect. They trace what they wish to do in their mind, pushing it to reality. You,” Luna gestured towards Octavia with an upturned hoof. “You let your magic guide you, listening to it instead of commanding it.”

It was impossible for Octavia to ignore the way Princess Luna was speaking. It was not of wisdom, conjecture built upon observation. She was speaking purely from experience.

“Prin… Luna,” Octavia corrected herself for the dark alicorn. “Do you perform magic like me?”

“I do,” Luna almost whispered with her smile, looking prideful for both herself and the younger alicorn. “The distinction between my sister and I is long and deep, down even to how we fundamentally use our magic. She learned one method, and I learned another.” Octavia knew the diarch was deviating from an answer, yet she couldn’t seem to care. It felt as if she was being told an ancient story. She likely was.

“Is it story time?” Ditzy spoke from behind the gray alicorn in a whisper. Whether it be due to Octavia’s numb shock or an example of the motherly tone of the pegasus, Octavia didn’t jump or flinch. Instead, she dumbly shook her head up and down. Luna giggled lightly above them. Ditzy nodded. “That’s good. Dinky likes new stories.”

With as much ceremony as the pegasus had displayed thus far, Ditzy settled on the grass, staring up at the princess like a foal being tucked into bed. Luna lowered herself to the grass as well, tucking her legs beneath her carriage comfortably. In a moment, Octavia joined and all ponies laid in a comfortable circle. Octavia continued to stare at Luna expectantly, curious. The princess chuckled softly, either entertained by the accepting nature of the pegasus or slightly amused by the still dumbstruck Octavia.

“My sister and I grew together, as most all siblings do,” Luna began the story, foregoing any introduction. “Our lessons were learned passively, through more observation and practice than lectures and rules. We would watch the unicorns guide the celestial orbs, watch the pegasi wrestle the sky, and watch the earth ponies tame the earth. We watched, without ever being taught.” Octavia couldn’t ignore how well practiced Luna was with storytelling. She was completely engrossed. Then again, she couldn’t tell if that was because of the story or the princess herself.

“My sister and I would practice with each other, and only each other. We would stretch our wings and attempt to take flight, struggle to light our horns, then practice digging our hooves into the earth.” The ghost of a smile flittered over Luna’s features. It was replaced quickly by her small grin. Octavia’s eyes were quick enough to catch it. She questioned whether Ditzy’s were.

“My sister was the first to cast magic, able to pull a tree from its roots with but a flick of her head. I can still perfectly recall the joy on her face.” Even as she said it, Octavia could see the diarch’s eyes reliving the fond memory. “Yet, no matter how long she attempted to train me, I was unable to mimic the act.” And just like the smile from before, Octavia saw the phantom of a frown. It was gone before she could blink.

“But you’re good at magic now,” Dinky declared with her own broad grin. Her wall-eyes were shut, presumably to make her bright smile show even more. “You must have practiced extra hard.” Luna smiled down at the pegasus appreciatively.

“That I did, young Ditzy, but it did me little good.” Now Dinky’s smile disappeared, replaced by a confused puckering of her lips. Octavia practically mirrored the response, her head tilted slightly in bewilderment. “No matter the number of hours or days I practiced, I was not able to repeat my sister’s act. Her words encouraged me, but her pity deterred me.” Octavia knew the feeling well.

“As I continued to struggle with my magic, my sister strove forwards into fields beyond me. She took to the skies as if she owned them, moved the land as if she bore it, and ruled over the magic with but passing thoughts. While I struggled to lift a tree, she began to spin the sun about the land.” The dark alicorn’s eyes gazed into the sky as she spoke. Octavia didn’t need to burn her cornia’s to know what Luna was looking at. Ditzy, however, followed the diarch’s gaze. Octavia passively assumed only one of the pegasus’s eyes would be harmed, to her amusement.

“But,” Luna spoke, poorly hiding a proud smile. “I was able to one day lift that tree, as well as move the moon above. It was on that day that I received my Cutie Mark, my recognition of accomplishment. And I received it not by following in the path of my sister, but by carving my own path into the realm of magic.” Octavia’s eyes shot open when she realized what the princess meant.

“You didn’t guide the magic, you let the magic guide you,” Octavia shot a hoof to her mouth only a moment after she spoke. It was hardly greater than a murmur, but so trained was she to remain silent during a performance or speech, that the very idea of interrupting was abhorrent to her. A hot blush ran through her muzzle realized what she had done.

Yet, as she gazed up at Luna with worried eyes, the diarch looked down on her with a benevolent smile. She may have been the princess of the night and stars, but Octavia felt herself warmed under the kind gaze.

“Yes, you are correct,” Luna spoke with pridefully. “My sister’s instructions were based around the understanding of magic, the mastery of it, before conquering it. Like the sun that she now commands, she directed the magic to spin around her. But such a path was not the way for my magic… and so it seems, is the same for you.”

“Why not?” Ditzy honestly asked beside the pair. Her miss-directed eyes looked at Octavia curiously, wondering a question that the gray alicorn couldn’t hear. But then, almost suddenly, a look of surprise appeared on the pegasus’s features. “Are you and the princess sisters?”

It was the question of a foal. An honest, insulting, but horribly obvious question. It nonetheless made Octavia gape at the pegasus as if she were struck.

“Wha… No! No no no no no, no.” Octavia waved her hooves rapidly in denial before finally crossing them over her chest like a poor colt’s shield. The mare steeled herself as if she were about to perform a recital, making sure Ditzy had her eyes, both of her eyes, only on her. “No, Princess Luna and I share no such relations. She is one of the princesses of Equestria, who has graced me enough to aide in this tribulation of myself.” Despite the strength of her words, Ditzy only adopted an almost teasing grin.

“You sound like my Dink,” Ditzy giggled into her hooves as she spoke. Her laughter only grew in volume as Octavia’s coat turned scarlet. “You do! You’re acting just like her!” Ditzy started to playfully accuse the gray alicorn, pointing her hoof like a foal.

Octavia was used to childish barbs and cajoles, growing up in a city where foals were often spoiled and let loose to play. She was not used to such taunts coming from those who were nearly equal to her in age, however.

Beyond that, she was certainly not used to being quite so embarrassed by those taunts.

“That is enough, young Ditzy,” Luna spoke easily to the gray pegasus, the authorative tone undeniable in her voice. It made Derpy silence herself almost immediately. Octavia was wholeheartedly thankful. “I thank you for your aide today, but I believe the night is soon to come and we must part ways.” The words made the mail mare’s golden eyes widen.

“Oh! Dinky will be home soon!” Without another word, Ditzy took to the air, turning around and beginning to fly from the garden. She passed over a tree before she stopped herself spinning in mid-air with the aid of her wings. Hanging in the air, she started to wave her hoof at the two alicorns, a bright and cheerful that seemed to be made just for her face.

“Bye-Bye! See you tomorrow!” And with that, the gray pegasus disappeared beyond the castle walls.

“She is an excellent teacher.” Octavia complemented the now-absent pegasus. “I am thankful once more to you for finding her.”

“As am I, for I doubt I would have known the small skills she is so adept at expressing.” Luna turned towards Octavia, smiling at her as she had done nearly all day long. “But, I must now depart as well. The time is near to raise the moon, and I must take my post in the court.”

“Of course,” Octavia spoke easily. “I cannot thank you enough for helping me like this. I doubt I’ll ever be able to express it fully in words.” Luna’s soft chuckling was a pleasant sound to Octavia’s ears.

“Words have more limitations than ponies are aware to accept.” The diarch agreed cryptically. “For the many words of every language, there will always be things they cannot express nor explain. At those times, it becomes the task of heart, not the mind, to understand the feelings of another.”

Octavia smiled up at the taller princess. Luna smiled down at the younger alicorn in return. They simply looked at one another for a moment, until Luna spoke up.

“Until tomorrow, young Octavia.”With a small bow to the cellist, she continued, “I grant you safe dreams, and look forward to tomorrow’s training.”

“I will see you then, your majesty,” Octavia returned, bowing in return to the princess. She turned then, soft and carefully enough to not appear rude or dismissive.

She could hear the bustle of the castle employees inside the hall, moving about in a change of shifts doubtlessly. Lights were being turned, candles rotated for time, drapes being drawn, and many other small tasks performed all at once. It seemed like a play in itself, watching the castle change in a practiced dance.

Octavia looked back at Luna, seeing the dark alicorn watching her departure. She was still smiling, a warm expression that she had an inkling was practiced to perfection. Octavia doubted it was a mask, not like the façade she wore on the throne in the face of requests and permissions. It was too relaxed, too at ease, to be anything but genuine.

Octavia decided to be just as genuine in return.

“Luna,” the cellist called the princess name, foregoing all honorifics. “I couldn’t be happier to have you teaching me.” With that statement, the gray alicorn left, walking through the castle as she set out for home.

Octavia did not see Luna blush.

Octavia was tired. So very, very tired.

Octavia closed and locked the door to her apartment with a quick display of her magic, setting aside the cello in her head when she was finished. She pulled the heavy coat off of her back, nearly flicking the hat from her head. Both weighed heavily upon her, and the trot from Canterlot Castle to her home was what she would call a short one.

Her wings expanded outwards, free to feel the air again. It was a stale air, and that she knew, but it still felt far better than the cramped space of the heavy overcoat. Yet, despite its size, she did have to thank Vinyl for it.

Walking around Canterlot with only a robe or cloak would elicit far more conversation than a mare wearing too much. The hat was also a load to bear, but she could not very well explain to a passerby who recognized her where her new horn had appeared from.

Then again, she still had little idea on where her horn had come from.

Octavia let out a small sigh as she let that idea run through her mind for a moment, not particularly favoring the idea of being in the dark of her own condition. She trotted into her apartment, adjusting a few odds and ends Vinyl had doubtlessly altered during her quick departure or lazy entrance. She made a mess no matter how she entered somewhere.

It was, however, a facet of her friend that Octavia was thankful for. True, the clutter may have provided some extra levitation practice for her. But, the messiness, or perhaps the disorganization, was a reminder of who Vinyl was to Octavia, an unexpected abnormality.

In a life that had been about decorum, posture, and display, it was a wet towel to the face to meet a mare like Vinyl. Brash, rude, and sometimes inane, the unicorn was everything that Octavia wasn’t. Except, perhaps, for kind...

Where Vinyl truly a repugnant mare, Octavia doubted she would have made it so far as a week in the apartment before begging her parents to allow her to stay with them. Yet, Vinyl wasn’t like that. She took an interest in Octavia, listening and judging her music honestly. She encouraged her to try new pieces, even when tradition said otherwise. She was a mare full of boundless energy, something that her traditional pieces dictated must be measured.

A small pulled at Octavia’s lips, her way of thanking the princesses once again for the chance to have a friend like Vinyl.

She knew Scratch was out for the night, likely at another gig in another bar she had never heard or understood the name of, but such was the way of the unicorn’s career. Where Octavia could only perform with royally-recognized symphonies and orchestras, Vinyl would jump from bar to bar like a frog would lily pads.

The idea of a Vinyl changed into a frog, glasses and all, made Octavia snicker to herself. Still, as encouraging as her friend was, she was equally glad to have had such a time with Princess Luna.

If she were to admit to another about her condition at an earlier time, she would have doubted she’d ever be as close to the princess as she was now. At best, the dark alicorn would know her name from the pamphlet of an orchestra’s score, or from her solo piece above an enraptured audience.

Even at the end of her dream career, the princesses were never supposed to be more than another goal post for her to reach, a position of power she wanted to recognize her. Like the conductor of the choir or the banker of the orchestra, they were never mares Octavia thought much of aside from their title.

She regretted ever thinking that way with all her heart.

Luna had done more for her than she could have imagined. Excusing her from her orchestra practice under the guise of personal performances. Orchestrating herself trainers for the newly-made alicorn in all fields Octavia was unfamiliar with. Telling her about the past of the royal sisters as if it were just another foal’s bedtime tale. And, most importantly of all, never once losing patience for the stumbling mare that was Octavia Melody.

Said mare sighed, realizing that her mind was still a mess. The fatigue of the day was truly weighing down on her, and there was only one true cure for it.

Her hooves clopped lightly across the apartment floor, reaching her bedroom door in a short period of time. Her hoof raised itself, flicking open the door handle with ease. Octavia mused for a moment that she should probably have used her magic, as the best way to master the art was to master its use for the simpler of tasks. She did recall Princess Luna doing everything from adjusting clouds to raising the moon with her magic. It made sense that Octavia herself should have at least managed a door by now.

Sweeping the thought away, Octavia trotted into her room, watching the pale moonlight seep into her room through the half closed blinds. Her favorite possession, her masterfully carved cello, sat proudly in the corner of the room, still as pristine as the moment she had last played it, only this morning.

Octavia reminded herself to practice the 18th 3rd Overture in tomorrow morning before she met with Ditzy and Luna again. The cello’s part in it was short and sweet, much like the pieces she would need to perform magic for mundane tasks. She couldn’t very well perform a symphony for every magical act she did. It would turn the grand display into a boring melancholy. The thought of that was unacceptable.

The gray alicorn slipped into her bed, feeling the plush mattress beneath her conform to her slightly larger shape. She bristled at the idea of gaining weight, but brushed it aside with her wings. Added appendages were supposed to add weight… at least when one planned on gaining them.

Octavia let the worries slide away as she rested her head on the pillow, a small sigh escaping her lips as she did so. They day was done and she needed rest. Now felt like the perfect time for a good night’s sleep.

Octavia opened her eyes just a hair, looking down at the sheets near the end of her bed. A small grin pulled at her lips as she focused a quick piece in her mind, a small cello addition to Hoofcowski’s Fifth Rhapsody. Maybe eight notes in total, whole note measures, it should have been enough to lift blankets up, over, and on top of Octavia.

Listening to the first note sing through her mind, Octavia let her magic follow the tune. She felt her ethereal force grasp the sheets, holding them steady. As the next few notes played, she heard both their low vibrations echoing through her mind as well as the sheets rustling above her.

Opening her eyes, Octavia saw the top sheet and comforter of her bed hovering above her, waving lightly in her….

The alicorn yelped, jumping from her bed, as the music cut and died off.

The sheets fell on top of the mattress, making hardly a sound as they flattened out. Octavia was on the ground, staring at her bed as if it had attempted to eat her. Breathing heavy, eyes wide, and mind racing.

It wasn’t the sheets that had scared her; she had lost her fear of the dark decades ago. There was no spider or stray fly in the room, as it was thankfully too dark to so much as notice them. What had shocked her, what had terrified her, was her own magic.

Her magic was no longer a dull gray.

Now her gray aura was tinged an aqua blue.

Author's Note

Poll Question 3:
Who should Octavia go to for help?
A) Princess Luna
B) Vinyl Scratch
C) Twilight Sparkle
D) No One
E) Other [specify choice]

The Rest

Octavia kept her head low and wings flush against her body. She trotted towards the castle with no small degree of trepidation. The jacket on her back was heavy, the hat titanic, but it was the mysteries still swimming through her mind that were the greatest weight she bore.

A unicorn walked past her, looking as if the night would bring him no rest. A pegasus, then, leaning on her companion with a dull and drowsy look. A pair of young mares trotted by, clinging close to one another upon the moon lit avenue. Octavia saw nothing more than that.

Her eyes were focused on the ground, studying the cobblestone in frivolous detail, but her mind was elsewhere, barely considering the path she followed.

Of all the things both intimate and embarrassing that Vinyl had ever shared with her, Octavia had never seen her friend’s magical aura change. It was always the same neon blue--electric, even--much like the music she loved to play. No matter what she was doing. Anything. Whether she was getting her set ready for a performance, making some random calamity that could be inferred as a meal, or preparing a prank to pull on the privileged and strict Octavia, Vinyl’s aura never so much as hinted at a different shade.

Yet while she had done little different with her magic over the month or so she had had it, it was now an entirely new color altogether. It was probably nothing. Hopefully nothing. Just some small detail that no unicorns ever care to speak of due to its normalcy. Pegasi didn’t speak of using their tails as guides in casual conversation, nor did Earth Ponies so readily speak of feeling the roots in the earth. It was just mundane.

Yes… That was probably it.

Yet no matter how many times Octavia forced that reassurance through her head, she could not deny the possibility that something was horribly, miserably wrong.

“Halt.” It was a guard’s voice. Octavia looked up to see that she had passively guided herself to the castle. She she focused, blinking in the moonlight, on the guard, who turned out to be one the Princess’s Lunar Stallions. He looked just as intimidating now under the pale moonlight as any of the others. “Please state your business so that we may know how to direct you.” And he was just as well-mannered as every other one. Octavia let a stray thought remind her to comment on that to Luna, but it was quickly silenced beneath the cacophony of her other worries.

“My name is Octavia Melody, and I am here to see Princess Luna.” It was a letter of address she had made often when she was coming to visit the Lunar Princess in the past month. Enough that she knew how to prove herself. “Princess Luna has given the one named Octavia royal permission to seek her counsel during the hours of her night.”

The guard looked behind himself, probably judging something just outside of the alicorn’s vision. It was, in all likelihood, another guard simply confirming Octavia’s words. She had never had the curiosity to investigate, having always been too preoccupied with her thoughts. Now was far from an exception.

“Very well,” the guard spoke up. “You are free to enter. I apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused.”

No, apologies aren’t necessary, Octavia was close to saying. She had before on many other occasions. But for now, she was simply too distressed. She pulled the hat tighter over her horn, concealing the bony protrusion.

She walked forward into the castle, the guards watching her carefully. Royal decrees did not keep their suspicion at bay. Octavia doubted any less than mental conditioning could. She felt her hooves transition from the hard cobblestone of the outside to the soft carpeting of the castle. She soaked in the warm air all around her, insulated by the thick walls of stone and glass.

Octavia walked the familiar path towards the court, having made the journey more than a dozen times by now. She would see Princess Luna, the princess would excuse the guards and any guests that had recently entered with some apologies, and then the two would discuss what was new. It was a familiar ritual, and Octavia was grateful for that. Familiarity bred trust.

It didn’t take long before Octavia found herself before the large and imposing doors of the court hall. She found herself adjusting the coat over her back, ensuring her newly-trained wings were still folded beneath them. She could not stand the idea of it slipping off and revealing her transformation to any odd pony who happened to be visiting. It was by her observation that the more peculiar company often made their appearances under Luna’s moon.

Octavia lifted her hoof to the door, pressing her weight upon it. It opened slowly due to its great weight. She walked in once it had opened just wide enough for her to squeeze through. As it had been for all her prior visits, the hall was long and well lit by the chandeliers that hung high in the air. The prismatic windows, stained and cut in ways to symbolize turning moments in Equestria’s history, were delicately illuminated by the pale light of the moon. Everything was as it was during her prior visitations. Everything except one thing.

Princess Luna was nowhere to be seen.

Octavia blinked, staring straight ahead and towards the throne. It was empty, with no princess of either night or day sitting upon its great shape. There were no guests in the chamber and only a spare guard or two along the chamber’s vast length.

“Excuse me,” Octavia started, addressing one of the guards. He turned towards her, his expression as neutral and disciplined as any of the others’.

“Ms. Melody,” he acknowledged with a small bow. Octavia was loathe to admit it, but she did not recognize him as readily he recognized her.

“Where is Princess Luna?” On normal occasions, she would have made small conversation. But now was not a normal occasion. She had to make that clear. “Something… dire has happened. I need her counsel quickl--right now.” The guard did not change his strong gaze for even a moment. He did, however, acknowledge her.

“Of course,” he spoke politely, nodding towards the other guard in the court. Octavia could easily imagine the guard outside of her vision nodding in turn. It was likely a silent conversation between the two. “Please, follow me,” the guard turned from her, trotting towards a much smaller hall concealed partially by the drawn curtains. Octavia had walked through it before.

It took little time before the two were trotting down the smaller hall, which was still decorated by old art and decorated furniture. Octavia recognized them all, having seen them in previous excursions through the hall. The ornate dressers, cabinets, pews, and other such objects saw more use as scenery than practical storage or sitting space.

“Her highness is rather busy tonight,” the guard spoke up, earning the disguised alicorn’s attention. “She gave word to us before her court that she would be unable to attend.”

“I… see…” Octavia did indeed see, but the words created another portal of thought. If the princess was so busy she could not attend her court, how would she have time for Octavia? The lunar mare had already taken much of her day and night for the young alicorn. Would it be fair to ask even more of her?

But what if her work was strained now because of her aiding Octavia?

“Ms. Melody?” The guard spoke her name with a questioning tone, lacking none of the stern monotone his voice usually held. It took him calling her name for her to realize that she had stopped and stared at nothing from the beneath the brim of her hat. The coat atop her back was sagging to one side, leaving her wings mismatched. How long had she been trapped in thought?

“I’m fine, I’m… alright,” she attempted to convince the stallion half-heartedly, waving one of her hooves casually. “Just… I’m a bit tired.” It was a truth, but a half-truth. She was tired, but it was not fatigue that had made her mind slip away. It was enough to convince the guard stallion, however.

“It is a late night,” he admitted. “Though I am sure the princess will be able to help you with your problem.” He turned away from her once he was done speaking, trotting briskly. She followed, as he likely expected her to. She was already noting the familiar paths and turns, though the comfort she felt from the surroundings’ familiarity was counteracted by her discomfort at having more to say. There was likely more; a word of confidence, a small reminder of praise, but it went unspoken.

He was a pony bound to his duty and his princess, and to him that meant speaking only as he needed to, empathizing only where he needed to. Octavia knew ponies like that, but they lacked sense of duty. She just called them shy. An off-thought told her she was probably being perceived as such, but she dashed the notion as soon as it arrived. She was cautious, not shy.

“We are here,” the lunar guard spoke up again. And indeed, having followed the same path as they had before, Octavia found herself outside of the doors to Princess Luna’s study.

It was where she often spoke to the princess about her training, about who would make the best teachers for her newly acquired abilities. It was a quiet place, smaller than what most others would expect, but it was also far from bland by any pony’s measure. Inside were books dating from before Octavia’s family was named to the present, pillows and cushions seemingly made of magic itself, a cool breeze that never caused a chill, and, most importantly, a state of mind that helped the young mare think. She could only assume it was the same for the princess.

“I will leave you, then.” The guard had started to trot off before Octavia realized what he had said.

“Uh…. O-Okay…” She replied uneasily. He didn’t falter in his march.

It was not that Octavia was uncomfortable in the hall, alone or not. It was not that she was nervous, as she felt more safe around the lunar princess than most other ponies. It was a simpler, if a bit more foalish, feeling.

She had never intruded on the princess before without an invitation. First meeting aside, of course.

For some time she simply stared at the door, sucking on her lower lip in an attempt to sum up her courage. The jacket along her back did little to hide her fidgeting wings. Worse, the coat gave the illusion of her back moving independent from her legs, creating a disturbing effect. Her form was hidden lightly by the soft candlelight illuminating the hallway, but Octavia felt it burning on her back.

It was difficult for the young mare to tell what she was waiting for. A part of her hoped that the princess would walk out at any moment and she would be able to be invited in as she normally was. To suddenly intrude into the room seemed inappropriate to her. It didn’t help that the room belonged Luna herself.

She considered simply leaving. This was her problem, she reasoned, and not something that the already busy and most likely overworked Luna had to stress over. She had already given the young Octavia time and lessons for both her magic and wings, things that she believed she would never have needed before now. Who was she to ask even more of the alicorn?

A sight left Octavia’s lips, slow and deep. The wings beneath her coat fell with the action. She turned to leave, sure that she would need to deal with this new development on her own, or when Vinyl inevitably found out. The latter was far more likely than the former. But just as she turned, she heard something.

It wasn’t the sound of far-off hoof beats or the mutterings of a pony echoing down the long halls like she expected. Instead, it was a harmonic noise--a familiar one--reverberating from beyond the door. It made Octavia freeze for a moment, turning her head back to the doors. She focused, straining her ears as she perked them to their tallest. She was doubtless now of what she was hearing.

There was a piano playing in Princess Luna’s room.

It was near impossible for the mare to decipher the song that was being played, but the notes were as recognizable to her as a well published book to a librarian. Each note that echoed through the oak doors was played, strong and confident, with intent, carrying the next with as much grace as a dancer upon her stage.

It enraptured the young alicorn. She was hardly one to consider herself an expert with the old tool, but like any good musician she could recognize the notes well. They were far different from those of a cello or violin, able to play the lowest notes to the highest notes in chords that could make them ring together. It was a wonderful sound, a peaceful sound, and Octavia found herself seeping into it.

So much so that she did not realize she had opened the door and taken a few steps in. The music stopped in time.

“Who enters?” Came the recognizable tone of Princess Luna, strong and loud enough to shake Octavia from any day dreaming she was caught within. Her legs shook, mind racing at the realization of what she had done, exactly what she had been just leaving to prevent.

But regardless of her entrance, she could now see the room she had entered clearly. It was still Luna’s room, still the same room where she had had many meetings with the princess and made a few heavy decisions, but now it held a new hardly ignorable addition: the Grand Piano sitting in the center of the room.

The pillows were pushed away, leaving room for the large, elegantly carved structure. The dignified instrument was lined with masterfully tuned keys and strings hiding within, all of which were waiting for the right beat to play. It shimmered in the night, a sign of the clear polish that decorated the dark surface of the musical tool. Luna herself, in all her nightly beauty, sat at the pew.

Her hooves hovered over the keys, staring back at Octavia with an inquisitive gaze. The gaze turned from questioning to relaxed to wondrous almost too fast for Octavia to catch. Almost. She could recognize the look of inquisition Luna had given, as any pony would were they being interrupted. Octavia equally hoped it was their comfortable relationship that had allowed the look to relax as well, but it took her a moment to think and realize why Luna’s expression was caught the way it was now, with wide eyes and slightly gape jaw.

Octavia looked at the doors, the ones she had no hooves upon, the doors she had opened with instinct, the ones that were surrounded in her magical aura, her color changed and altered aura. Dread quickly flooded into Octavia once more.

“Oh…. Oh my…”

Of all the ways she had hoped for the princess to respond, that was not one of them.

Octavia was hoping for the princess to giggle lightly, to easily instruct her as to the meaning behind the change in aura. She was supposed to invite her in with nothing more than a question or two and a simple dismissal of the change. That would have been enough. That would have been all Octavia needed to know that this change was normal, easy to manage, predictable, not a problem.

But Luna had done none of those things. There was no denying it. This change was yet another drastic alteration to Octavia’s self. One she could not ignore, not even with alicorn-hood trusted upon her.

“Oh my. Octavia!” Princess Luna’s voice had an urgency to it--just enough for it to shake Octavia from her reverie of doubt. It was then that she noticed there was a trail of tears running down her face. Of course.

“I-I apologize… your majesty, I-” Octavia stopped. A bare hoof was held up to her, instructing her to give silence. Luna’s stern-yet-comforting gaze was just behind it.

“Enough of that,” the princess dismissed the apology as easily as she would a gnat in the room. “What has ailed you enough to bring you to tears?” Octavia looked downwards again.

She felt like a foal. A fool and a foal, refusing to speak to her better and finding pain where there was meant to be comfort. It weighed upon her, dug into her, and it hurt.

“Octavia,” Luna’s voice carried to her. It was calming, as was normal for Luna, but it was also more than that. It was caring, empathetic, and heartfelt. It sounded as if the princess was speaking not to one of her many subjects but to Octavia herself, genuine and honest. “Please, look at me.”

Octavia did so, but held as much hesitation as she did with so many actions before the lunar princess. Her head remained bowed, looking up with a tear-stained expression. The edges of her wings drooped, just barely above the floor as they shook from her pitiful attempts to control her breathing. Even with such elegant wings and a magnificent horn, Octavia was sure she looked every bit as miserable as she would have without them.

Luna, however, was still smiling down upon her like an angel illuminating the night.

“You do not deserve and do not need to bear any more weight than is placed upon you now. I am understanding of and will help you with any problems that may come to pass upon you. Please, tell me what is wrong, and I will do my utmost to right it.” Every word was spoken with that same smile. Every word sounded like an encouraging chime to Octavia. Everything about it was uplifting.

“But have not I not inconvenienced you?” The sick part of Octavia spoke up, the dark part that told her she was exactly what she feared to be: a hindrance, a blockade to others. “You must have so much work because of me, more than you deserve. I-I should probably just leave-” Once more the younger alicorn was silenced. Luna did not speak in turn, however.

Instead, she used her own blue aura to lift the hat from Octavia’s head, placing it on a table on the far end of the room. She then maneuvered the coat from the musician’s back, letting the younger mare’s gray wings stretch in the fresh air. Only when Octavia was bare of the façade of her clothing did Luna speak again.

“Any work I have can wait, and will wait, until you have your peace of mind. That is a promise.” Luna placed her hoof on Octavia’s shoulder, comforting the ever-worrying mare. To Octavia it felt like a cool pack of ice on her heated mind. It was heavenly. “And I suspect that your true cause for concern is of the change in your magic’s color, is it not?” With Luna’s hoof upon her, Octavia didn’t feel any need to skirt around it or her worries.

“Yes,” she admitted, speaking in a quieter tone. “I… I cast my magic earlier and saw it for the first time. It was the same this morning: gray as my coat. But now…” Octavia turned to see one of the plush pillows along the side wall, stacked with others. The soft, modestly decorated cushion was elegant even in storage. Her horn alighted, lifting the object up. It was surrounded in the light blue hue as her covers had been before, as the door too had been before, but like no other objects before them.

“Ah,” Luna noted with a small tone. It was not, to Octavia’s relief, one of worry or pain. “I believe I know the cause, and I can say with safety that there is no reason for concern.”

The feeling those words brought could not, in turn, be described. Though they eased a great weight from the young Octavia, one she knew she needed no longer bear, her curious mind was not so easily satisfied. She half suspected Luna was waiting for her to ask the question.

“Then… what caused it?” Luna only smiled down at her. Octavia felt comfort in that smile. It was not much different from the smile Vinyl would give her; full of mischief and devious thoughts. But even with Luna she knew what it would bring.

“Young foals, before they have thought of where they are, attach to their parents when in need.” Octavia had to admit, she did not expect the talk to be about psychology.

“I… beg your pardon?” Luna retracted her hoof, still smiling at Octavia. With a wave her head, she motioned for the younger alicorn to follow her deeper into the room. Octavia did so, making sure that her posture and poise were presentable and praying her humiliating display from earlier had been forgotten.

“For a foal born normally, love and attachment are two important aspects of their growth. It allows them to explore, to question, and to reach out into the world.” Luna’s bare hoof waved through the air as she spoke on. “However, there are also foals that are not so fortunate. Ponies of the age of only a babe that must bear the world alone. Do you know why I am telling you this, Octavia?” Honestly, Octavia hadn’t a clue.

“I… think so…” the mare uneasily replied. Luna only smiled coyly, taking the moment to launch into her reply.

“Those ponies that are born without a doting parent cast magic of a gray hue.” That nailed Octavia’s attention.

“They what?” The younger alicorn responded in kind, giving a question that Luna was quick and happy to answer.

“They cast colorless magic,” the alicorn continued. “It is not common amongst elder ponies, but gray magic is a sign of no core--no center--for one’s self.” Octavia heard what the princess was saying, but at the same time she felt as if she was being insulted.

“Princess… Luna,” the mare corrected herself. “I can promise you that my parents have been nothing but loving and encouraging towards me since my birth and to this moment in my life. I have never once felt desperate or alone. Besides which, I can assure you that Vinyl has kept me company even when solitude has been preferred.” That earned a small giggle from Luna. Were it any other pony, Octavia was sure she would have thrown a pillow at them. Only a pillow, but maybe filled with rocks.

“And of this, I have no doubt,” the alicorn agreed. “But you misunderstand, assuming that it is simply love that decides the color of your magic. Rather, the magic you cast can be controlled in any way, including the color it bears.”

To demonstrate, the princess lit her horn with absolute ease. It flashed the familiar dark blue, a hue that fit a night’s sky. It danced about the room, giving a quick display of its properties. Octavia followed it carefully.

Especially when it brightened into a dazzling white. A shocked gasp escaped her mouth, while a giggle emanated from Luna’s position.

“The color of one’s magic is a natural color, a color of their instinctual choosing. I did not mean to mislead and say it was a part of their character. I meant to imply that the foals that were loved felt safe in a color. A dragon of the mountains would find peace with dark rocks, as a fish would with deep blue waters.”

Luna placed her hoof on Octavia’s chest, lightly pressing against the fine coat. Octavia glanced down at the appendage, confused. She raised her head back to look at Princess Luna. The diarch had never lost her smile, though her magic had ceased.

“Before, when you cast your magic for the first time, your thoughts were of yourself and of what this meant to you.” Though more objective than questioning, Octavia could not call the princess wrong. “But now you are thinking of others, not just yourself, and that has brought about the color you think of them as.”

“Is that… common?” Luna shook her head at the question, but her everlasting smile kept any thoughts of worry at bay.

“There is very little in common between what has happened to you and an ordinary pony.” It was more of a confirmation of facts than a new conjecture, but Octavia appreciated it all the same. “I am sure if you were to cast your magic now, thinking of yourself over others, it would change colors again away from whoever you associated with such a peaceful blue.”

As if to test the theory, Octavia cast her magic without hesitation, lifting the same pillow as she had before. She thought of herself practicing her cello at an hour before the school bells had rung, tuning one of the strings to better fit to the chord.

And, as she did so, the hue about the pillow started turning gray.

Relief flooded through the mare. It silenced her inner music and brought the pillow down with a dull thump.

“Please, do not worry over this,” Luna spoke on. “I promised then as I do now. There is nothing to worry over, only to think on. Much like adding an extra octave to a piece. It is only meant to be considered, not fretted over.” An appropriate analogy, and one Octavia was immensely grateful to hear.

She smiled up at the princess, an act that Luna returned in kind. They nodded at one another, letting the moment slip away in silence. For some time they simply stood and appreciated.

“Here,” Luna instructed with her hoof, pointing towards a small section of the otherwise large room. “I believe I know how we may calm your wary nerves.” Octavia followed the hoof of the dark alicorn, stopping only when she saw what she felt didn’t belong in the room. The object made her gasp.

It was true that it didn’t belong in the room, what Luna was pointing towards, but it was a thing that Octavia had much love for, and many hours of kinsmanship with. It was a classical tool, one that had been used, tuned, and perfected over many centuries, one that had run deep in her family line, and just as deep in the realm of music.

Octavia felt her wings rise, ever so slightly, as she gazed upon a grand, intricately crafted and pristine cello.

It sat upon its stand, leaning back ever so carefully. Sitting precariously upon its tail piece made it as tall and imposing as all cellos were. It had four deftly tied strings along its bridge. The pegs and scrolls were positioned at the top, as they always were, but here they were reflecting a light Octavia couldn’t see. The belly of the wooden instrument was much the same, shining in a way that made the gray alicorn wonder how she ever could have missed it.

That was right, everything about the shape and strings seemed normal. Perfectly normal, in fact. The kind of normalcy that was required to play an instrument as delicate and deep as the cello. But the color, the color was so different. It took Octavia the full moment, or perhaps even two more, to realize that the instrument was not reflecting light, but creating it.

Simply, it was glowing. It was glowing like a well-lit sky.

“Does it… suit you?” Luna asked from aside Octavia, holding a trace of hesitance. The younger mare hadn’t noticed. “I was not sure of how to commission the piece, but I believed it appropriate for you. You have been forced to learn much in such short time. I thought it would be… beneficial...to let you work with something more familiar.” Those words made Octavia stare at Luna, mouth agape.

“This… This is for me?” Octavia could not lie and say she misunderstood the princess, but she would be perfectly honest to admit that was caught in disbelief. She was the one in debt to the dark alicorn, to the Lunar Princess. Why was she the one receiving such a gift?

“It is,” Luna spoke kindly with an equally kind bow of her head; short, but noticeable. “It would not take centuries of wisdom to notice you are bearing more than most ponies ever have had to handle.” The words felt less like a compliment and more like a reminder. Octavia’s wings folded as she spoke, as if fallen under the weight of the notion. “But if there is one benefit my… isolation… had taught me. It was the saving grace of small joys.”

Luna let the admission hang in the air while she trotted by Octavia. The younger and smaller alicorn fought the urge to gape at her as she passed. The lunar mare stopped when she was by her piano again. The seat moved out and the cover lifted to present to her the keys of the wondrous tool. Luna’s horn flashed briefly, her magic working so quickly it was almost impossible to see, but it was long enough for her crystal horseshoes to be removed, revealing the equally elegant hooves beneath.

“Music is as much an escape to me as books are to my sister.” It took Octavia a moment to realize that Luna’s voice had dropped in tone. It wasn’t dark, and far from ominous, but it had a recognizable pitch to it. Octavia recognized the melancholy well. “My elder sister would often read to me when we were young, losing herself in stories and tales both true and false. She loved worlds far from our own, in either time or distance. I, too, enjoyed those stories, but I found my peace in another tool, in another way.”

After a moment of silence, Luna’s hooves lightly fell onto the keys.

The echo of the well strung instrument rang through the room, vibrating along Octavia’s bones and reminding her to breathe. It was more welcoming than a breath of fresh air. With masterful skill, Luna continued to play the keys. Octavia was reminded of the solo Luna had been playing originally when Octavia had come to see her. Her hooves were rising and falling over the many keys, both sharp and flat, playing chords and songs that needed no words.

“Music is an escape, but it is also a reminder,” Luna continued to speak, her voice rising as she did so. Octavia felt her own lips turning up with the elder alicorn’s voice. “That no matter how much the world may change, or we may change along with it, music will remain the same. It will still touch the soul, it will still guide the heart, and it will still ease the mind. It hasn’t changed in thousands of years. Not even a falling nation can alter it.”

Princess Luna continued to play, and Octavia closed her eyes. In but a moment she simply let go, lost to the melody.

BEGIN

Luna expertly moved her hooves over the keys, playing single notes that rang together, almost as if nature intended them to. They sifted through the air, settling over Octavia like the curtains of time and turning every moment into a sacred pleasure.

Octavia shut her eyes, briefly letting the notes flow over her. She felt her wings rise, as if they were trying to catch the sound and glide over it. Princess Luna was right. It was lifting her soul and guiding her heart. It was exactly the way she felt when she played, when she practiced, when she was free of the world’s worries.

The gray alicorn took in a long breath of air, savoring it like she was every note the princess played. It sounded like the stars were ringing with the notes echoing about the room. She took her on a journey in themselves, reminding the young mare of who she was, not what she was.

She was Octavia Melody, first chair in the Canterlot Orchestra, the youngest to take the position. Trained since a small age, growing in skill through her own hard work and talent, and finally amassing into a young mare. She was a young pony that any set of parents would be proud to have, and that anypony would be thankful to call a friend.

The mare looked over to the cello the princess had made for her. It was seemingly glowing with the music Luna was playing. Either it was glowing from the princess’s magic or it was calling to Octavia. Both seemed equally likely, and equally enticing.

Octavia lightly and easily trotted over to stand behind the instrument, gently easing it off of the stand once she had reached it. It leaned on her like a weary friend, in need of another to sing. Octavia was only too happy to comply.

She grasped the bow of the cello, letting it sit comfortably in her hoof. Once it had settled peacefully, she deftly rested it against the strings of the instrument. It bounced lightly, settling against the wooden body as it would a bed. Octavia felt her eyes shut briefly, as if she too were about rest against a bed. Truly, with Luna’s music flowing through the air and the cello in her grasp, it was hard for Octavia not to think of this as a moment worth losing herself in. There was, however, one obvious way to make it even better.

Pulling the bow across the strings, Octavia began to play.

Luna looked over at Octavia quickly but briefly. She heard the slow hum of the cello’s strings verberate behind her, running down her spine like a cool stream of water. It supplemented the quick rings of the piano perfectly, carrying the notes like a strong ship upon steady stream. The two mixed together, played together, and, slowly, were lost in each other.

And as the two lost themselves to the music they played, memories began to take shape in their minds.

Octavia remembered the first time she picked up a cello. It had stood so tall above her that it had appeared gargantuan. Her hooves could not wrap around the wooden body, but her soul could feel the music that it was capable of crafting. She felt joy when she plucked its strings, peace when she pulled the bow, and bliss when her parents congratulated her.

Luna recalled a distant memory of her youth, of her and Celestia. They had been foals in a brand new world, exploring for the sake of exploring and adventuring for the joy of discovery. They had found lands untouched, magic unfounded, and peace being uttered on breathless air. She could even recall, albeit faintly, the first time her hooves had touched the keys of a piano and the mixture of joy and fright she had received when the piano had spoken back to her, its deep tones echoing.

Octavia saw herself taking lessons, saw an instructor teaching her how to hold the grand device. She saw herself learning how to pull the bow and how to position her hooves. She remembered having to adjust her chair twice over before being comfortable, and having not dread of learning an instrument, but excitement. She remembered her sister telling her to take it slow… but she could not remember her sister.

Luna remembered telling her elder sibling of how much she enjoyed the piano, of how it spoke to her in a way she felt magic did. She remembered her sister smiling at the words, holding her close and congratulating her on finding such a simple joy in such a vast world. Luna remembered holding her back in return, promising that she’d play as she was read to. She remembered them agreeing.

Octavia finally recalled being excused by her mentor. Not out of spite, but out of thanks. She had learned all that he could teach, and had been and still was able to play like a master at an age where youth was still thought to be foolish. But it was to be expected. She had practiced all through her nights, and even part way through the day. She recalled sleeping when the sun shined brightly in the sky instead of when the moon gave off its dim glow. But she had never owned the nights… had she?

Luna remembered playing the piano one last time, before everything had gone awry. She remembered playing a small duet for her sister, performed by her and her magic. She let the keys tell her where to push, how deeply to depress them, and how slowly the piece was meant to be played. There was no rush, not in the realm of music. Nothing was meant to go at a pace faster than what was intended. It was not speed that was the measure of skill in music, but emotion. The feeling of the heart was what one used to judge the quality of a piece. By that regard, she was a master.

Octavia had been called a master by many ponies, young and old. She never had told any of them they were false. She thanked them with a bowed head, taking care to keep her horn away from their eyes as she did so. These weren’t here memories, but they felt to her as natural as her own past.

Luna let the feeling at last wash over. The piano told her it was coming time to end, to let the music fall asleep once more. Once she finally did she felt such joy, such bliss, such peace.

Octavia had never felt such peace.

Luna had never felt such acceptance.

Octavia was happy.

Luna was in bliss.

The two let their respective instruments soften and, eventually, quiet. The room was becoming a vacuum with how quiet it was. Yet both mares kept their eyes shut, enjoying the slow release the music had given them and the peace it had let them enjoy. There was no rush to move from where they were, no need to hurry. For now, simply peace was enough.

END

And once both had opened their eyes, they were greeted with a new sight.

Stars were dancing around them.

They were not stars on the wall paintings or curtain designs. They were small lights, near enough to actual stars, blinking across and around the room. They hovered between Octavia and Luna, each shimmering with a slow light that usually belonged to the night sky. Some were slowly swimming behind the alicorns, as if searching the empty room for where the music had gone.

It made the comfortable darkness brighten into a clear night, leaving pale light to move about the room. To own, for a time, the air around them. They did not compete with one another, shining brighter than the former or dimmer than the last. They simply existed by one another, like petals on a leaf or strings on a cello. They were all perfectly placed, perfectly spaced, and perfectly content.

“Wow…” Octavia felt the words slip from her lips, the first word either mare had said in some time. It didn’t do justice to the beauty that surrounded them, but there were few words that could, and even fewer ponies that could imagine them.

“Yes,” Luna agreed, nodding her head and joining in searching out the wonders around them. The awe in her voice told Octavia this was not a very common occurrence. “Yes, indeed.”

It took longer than they expected for the lights to slowly dim, but die down they did. There was no more music left to keep them afloat, no more magic left to keep them alive. Like the leaves in autumn, or the snow in spring, what they needed to exist was gone, and so they left as easily as they came.

A blink here, a twinkle there, and then the stars slowly disappeared from existence, leaving not even dust behind. Only the memories of their sights remained with the alicorns, the sight of the stars and the sound of their music. It was plenty enough for the two.

“That was… beautiful.” And again, there was no justice in the words Octavia spoke, but she could not do justice with words where only music seemed to hold meaning.

“It was,” Luna agreed, the volume in her voice only just above a whisper. It grew as she spoke on. “And I believe that may have answered a question we both have held for some time now.” Octavia turned slowly towards the diarch, staring at her with eyes that hadn’t faltered since they had opened.

“What is that?” Luna smiled lightly, kindly, at the question.

“We still have no rhyme or reason for how your horn or wings came to be.” As she pointed them out, Octavia felt her wings recoil against her side. She wasn’t aware of when they had opened. Probably some time during the performance. “But now we have an idea of what you are capable of. That may very well be the key to finding out why.” Something in those words stuck with Octavia.

“W-Wait, princess, are… are you saying…” She stopped, as if caught in disbelief. It was supposed to be obvious, at least obvious to her. The stars were Luna’s doing. They had to be. Who else could create such a beautiful night but the princess of it? But the dark alicorn’s coy smile and light voice said otherwise.

“I am saying that I cast no magic during our performance, Ms. Melody,” Luna confirmed. The princess of the night stood from the piano, poise as elegant as ever. “And I can also say that you performed leagues and years above what most other mares or stallions your age could muster.”

“I… I don’t understand…”

“A princess of love sits far to the north,” Luna began cryptically. “And she knows of it in all its forms. She knows of love by family, and the joy only a sibling can feel. She knows the love of marriage, as her kinship is stronger than almost any other I’ve ever bared witness to. And I believe she will know of the love of parenthood, though that will only come with time, however brief.”

“Princess?” It was a silly question, half muttered, but it was all Octavia could say to the dark alicorn slowly trotting over to her.

“A princess of friendship is to the west, and she knows of near all the many lessons that comes with it.” Octavia knew well of whom Luna was speaking. “Through the trials of life and the turns of fate, she has learned of friendship through friends in every manner and way. Good times and bad, trials and tribulations. There is no other pony who knows more of what friendship is then that mare. But you, Octavia, are related to her in a way I could not have suspected before now.”

Even with the soliloquy, Octavia was no closer to understanding the Lunar Princess than when she began. She was starting to feel a bit nervous.

“You, Octavia, are a learning master of the soul.”

The sentence didn’t process properly.

“W-What?”

“Your music made it clear to me,” Luna spoke almost breathlessly, happily. “Through following the flows of the guiding hand of magic, you were able to not only learn about but empathize with a life you have never had. You copied and cast a magic only I have, not only by following the flows of my magic, but by listening to my own music play.”

Was that what that was? Was that what she did? Octavia felt herself fall to the floor in stunned wonder. Her eyes looked up from her sitting position. Luna continued as if she had not moved at all.

“And if not that, then the changing patterns of your magic make it all the clearer.” Luna went on to say, her voice never losing its wise tone. “You easily changed it from a comforting gray to an inviting blue, then altered it back with but a thought,” Luna continued, smiling.

“I spoke to you honestly when I said most other ponies learn not to follow magic, but to control it. You, young Octavia, followed the magic, and in doing so found the most wonderful pieces of my soul. You changed your magic, in color and form, to match others.” Luna’s regalia-free hoof rested on her chest, eyes shutting briefly as she did.

“You were able to effortlessly follow my music--to give it new lift. And by following my music, you followed me to my soul--and the magic that rests there. You… Octavia, are a musician that most other ponies could dare say never match.” The idea wasn’t as enticing to the young alicorn as she would have hoped.

“And there is no better way to understand the soul of another than by following their path, the same way you use your music.”

“What… what does this mean?” Octavia hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she imagined. With the serene expression Luna was giving her, she couldn’t tell.

“I don’t know,” Luna admitted, much to the gray alicorn’s disappointment. “Not yet. But it is hard to imagine we will not find out soon enough.”

“Then what am I to do now?” Octavia asked more quickly than she would have liked, but she was being held on the edge of a cliff, being promised answers she had spent near months looking for.

Luna leaned in, gently raising Octavia’s muzzle with her hoof. It was a soft touch, a kind one. Luna stopped only when Octavia’s wet eyes settled on the princess’s kind dark orbs.

“We look for another whom you can follow.”

Author's Note

Poll Question 4:
Who should Octavia "follow" next?
Any) FREE FOR ALL!!!
Vote for anypony you think is appropriate for Octavia to seek council with. Keep in mind that she has just learned to try and practice her magic through music, so try to focus on ponies that have some level of musical ability, even if singing is the end of their talent. Suggestions range from Vinyl Scratch (Electronic w/ Cello), Fluttershy (Slow Singing Melodies), or even Fiddle Sticks (String Duet)!

Voters who supply a song that can go with their choice will receive additional weight in their vote. Example. Fiddle Stick and Octavia with some Dancing Violins! Think of the art!

All answers will be tallied and counted within two weeks of this chapter's posting. The decision will decide the next and future chapters. Think carefully!

I might regret this...

The Accompaniment

The Accompaniment

Fillydelphia, a town Octavia had only ever seen through panes of glass. Whether they be picture frames hanging upon the wall or the windows of a trolley moving through town, it was only through the panels that she had ever seen the sky-scraping city. Soon, that would change.

For now, she was entering the wide-stretched city within the compartment of a train, her cello sitting in the seat beside her as one of her hooves rested over the delicate instrument. Her eyes watched sections of the city race by, but the ponies along the tracks only paid half a mind to the steam powered transport, likely far past used to the sight.

Octavia settled back into her seat, shutting her eyes for a moment. She knew it would be no more than a couple of minutes before the train had its wheels locked and they were told to disembark. She wanted to savor a few more short moments of the interior’s calmness before she stepped into the busy city.

Whilst savoring the blanket of peace for a minute longer, she thought of the conversation she had with Vinyl, of her decision to play with the so-called Fiddlesticks over Drifter. It was clear from the questioning manner that Vinyl played with, and the words she chose to speak, that she would have rather had the cellist take up the strings with the blue Pegasus, but Octavia was inclined to decline.

She had nothing against Drifter, their brief meeting told her he was a very kind and sensible stallion. Octavia was merely more inclined to play with a pony that had their musical arts set more in tradition than late night partying.

She adjusted the coat along her back, hiding her wings from the many bored-looking ponies sitting around her. The brim of her hat was still lightly covering her eyes. The gray alicorn felt her lips upturn a bit, pulling in a smile.

Octavia was looking forward to meeting Fiddlesticks. What Vinyl had spoken of her, between the usual needless adjectives and misused adverbs, was her skill with the small wooden instrument. Perhaps it was the similarity in shape between the violin and cello that caused Vinyl to so often forget the name of the larger instrument. Possible, but unlikely.

To play any stringed instrument was not an easy task. Octavia knew far better than most ponies the difficulty that went into mastering one. One had to not only know the placement of the bow, the technique of the draw, and the method of holding, but they also had to hear the subtle differences in pitch and tone.

Raise your hoof just a hair higher along the neck, and the notes would descend in pitch. Draw the string too fast, and the instrument would nearly screech in rage. The many ponies of the Symphony knew that, but Octavia was remiss to say she knew few musicians outside of her tight circle that practiced the stringed instruments. Thus, she was interested to meet another, and Vinyl’s description had left her hopes high.

It also didn’t hurt that Vinyl had described the mare as her twin. Octavia, upon seeing her picture, was unable to deny the similarities.

Though she was fairly certain she had no long-lost relatives, it was beyond odd to see another mare with a mane and tail as long as hers, curled and straightened to the same style, facial features the same shape as hers, and even a cutie mark that matched her own. The last bit was more than a little disturbing to the cellist, but she supposed if she was one in a million, there were at least a few ponies out there just like her.

Her thoughts were jostled as the train made an abrupt change in pace. Octavia looked out the window to see they had sunken to a crawl, the station peering back at her beyond the train’s windows.

“Now at Fillydelphia station, Fillydelphia.” The speaker above her lightly spoke, nearly unheard as the ponies around her began to rise, reaching for luggage in compartments above or below their seats. Octavia waited patiently, aware that forcing her way through the crowd would not be comfortable, nor effective in concealing her hidden wings and horn.

Slowly but surely, the many ponies began to file out of the cabin, foals eagerly clopping up and down at finally being able to move again, their parents equally as grateful for the long ride to be over. Octavia, rather, was of the opposite mind. She enjoyed the solitude and stillness of travel, at least on occasion.

When she saw only a hoof full of ponies left in the cabin, Octavia rose from her seat, making sure the jacket on her back was secure before stepping into line. She moved the case of her cello to the ground as well, letting it wobble slightly before it balanced itself. Satisfied, she pulled the instrument forward.

It took little time for her to reach the end of the cabin, small as train compartments were, and the gap between the train row and the concrete ground. Easily, Octavia stepped down, letting her hooves clop upon the packed, well-worn ground. She jerked to a stop, however, and it took little time for her to find out why.

Behind her, Octavia’s cello was stuck on a raised piece of metal, its intended purpose beyond the young alicorn. Puckering her lips in annoyance, the mare turned around pulling on the case with a bit more strength than she thought she needed. The cello refused to move. Further annoyed, the mare pushed the case back, freeing it from the protruding metal. But, as she pulled forward again, it rolled right back into place, stopping once more.

Octavia huffed in annoyance, displeasure clear to everypony around. She attempted to jostle the case free, shaking it from side to side in a vain attempt. She attempted, unsuccessfully, to pay the many onlookers little mind. Frustration reaching a limit, she finally put her rear legs against the edge of the platform, pulling on her case with an aggravated grunt.

The case came free, sending Octavia tumbling across the platform.

She was unceremonious in her fall, landing on the cold concrete before the cello case fell atop of her. She rolled with it, hooves over head, before stopping with her stomach on the ground, legs sprawled out, and cello case laying unflattering beside her. She groaned, either in pain or embarrassment, or both.

There were murmurings above her, doubtlessly the ponies speaking about her rather humorous tumble, but none of them made move to help her. Momentarily, Octavia wished she had taken the princess upon her offer. It seemed now to be the logical solution, one that would have made her travels far easier and her stress levels lower. But, that would also likely mean some sort of royal treatment she was not yet used to receiving. For now, she was perfectly content to ride coach in a public train that being carted across Equestria in a Royal Carriage, and deal with the social awkwardness as it came and went. Just a tumble, after all, she reasoned. Nothing catastrophic.

That was until Octavia raised her forehoof to her sore head, only to meet the strong texture of her horn.

Her hat was not on her person.

A flare of worry swept through the alicorn, her violet eyes quickly darting back to look at her coat. She was satisfied, only somewhat to see that her large wings were very much hidden, her practice with Luna and Ditzy better training her from letting them sprawl outwards.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that she had just exposed the rather large and intimidating horn on her head.

She bit her lip, wondering what she could do about it now. She could certainly not pass herself off as Octavia, the cellist of the Canterlot Symphony, not to any stallion or mare who knew her as an earth pony. As loose as the disguise always was, it didn’t truly affect her untill it was removed.

For now however, she was still safe, at least partially. Octavia appeared as unicorn in the eyes of those around her, the same eyes that watched her sprayed out on the ground. There were no wings to mark her as royalty. If anything, they saw her only as a curiously klutzy mare. The stares around her grew into murmurs, but she paid them little mind. That was until one of them spoke to her.

“Well, don’t cha look like ya just got kicked off the band wagon?” The question was posed from just above her, in an accent Octavia hardly recognized. “C’mon, lets get ya back up on yer hooves.”

She turned her head from her back to look up at the speaker, seeing first a hoof extended towards her. Blinking, Octavia gratefully took it. She felt the mare, for she knew it was a mare by the pitch of her voice, pull on her leg and lift her from the cold concrete and back onto her hooves. The coat on her back shifted, but her wings remained tight against her carriage, hidden from the public eye.

Octavia opened her mouth to thank the mare who assisted her, only to find them slack open in surprise.

Staring back at her was a mare that matched her height to an inch. A mare with a mane of matching length as hers, and a tail to mirror. The pony was a mare that had a Treble Clef for a Cutie Mark, different from Octavia’s own only by color, but positioned no differently and shaped all the same. She was of the same size, the same length, the same structure in every which way, horn and wings aside.

In fact, the only significant difference in the pair, besides appendages, was their color. Where Octavia stood with a gray coat and only slightly-darker mane, the mare across from her was light yellow in coat, matching grown wheat, and with hair bluer than an open sky.

The mare stared back at her with an equally shocked expression, the two mirroring each other in both appearance and action. It was, as Octavia would for a long time recall, a terrifying and surreal feeling.

“Well… Ah’m guessin yer the gal Vinyl told me ta keep mah hat tipped for, huh?” The words, spoken in as broken Equestiran as they were, made it more than obvious that this was the mare Octavia was looking for.

“…Yes,” Octavia replied weaker than she would have liked to. First appearances mattered and she did not want to appear to be a bumbling fool with a lisp. The other mare, who Octavia was sure was Fiddlesticks, grinned cheekily in a way that reminded her of Vinyl. The alicorn could immediately see why the two would get along.

“Alright!” The other mare cheered, nodding her head in what Octavia guessed was light celebration. “Glad ta know we ain’t gonna be huntin’ one another ‘round the town. Too darn big for that kinda nonsense.”

Octavia had to think on her words for a moment before nodding in agreement. Her language was not just broken, it was tattered. It was not the worst dialect she had heard, but it was a strong competitor. It was with good grace that the mare was friendlier than Octavia truthfully expected for a first meeting. Octavia’s many interactions in the Symphony had led her to observe that ponies of the big city were not always the kindest to others.

Then again, very little of Fiddlesticks spoke of the city.

From her language to her clothes, everything about the earth pony spoke of life far away from any form of industrialization. Not only were her mannerisms a far cry from from an individual raised to be prim and proper, but her white Stetson hat and loose fitting shirt appeared to be nearly as old as the mare herself. The orange scarf tied around her neck and the loose belt about her waist were bright against the light colored shirt she wore, almost distractingly so.

It would be loathe for the concealed alicorn to say that Fiddlesticks did not wear the attire well. She appeared very eye catching in a rural sense, though even to one raised in high society she was easy to look at. Her eyes appeared to glow and her clothes accented it beautifully. It made Octavia ponder how she would look in those same clothes, seeing as the two were practically twins by appearance alone.

Then again, she was rather sure the mare lacked the wings and horn Octavia had recently grown.

“So yer the silent type, are ya?” The mare suddenly asked Octavia, her hat lowered slightly as her eyes looked at the gray mare crookedly, like Octavia would stare at a missing string along her cello. The question, or statement as it sounded, was enough to rouse the alicorn from her thought induced stupor.

“Oh! No, no, I apologize for that,” Octavia let out a bit quicker than she intended. It appeared she was struggling to speak at the right tempo or volume. She only hoped pitch did not follow. A cracking voice was a hard thing to explain away. “I was simply swept up by your… I do apologize for how this sounds, but your appearance.” To emphasize her point, Octavia swept her hoof towards the other mare. Thankfully, Fiddlesticks seemed entertained at the statement.

“No denyin’ we gotta few good looks between us, huh?” Again, it took Octavia a moment to put the words into a proper sentence. When she did, she nodded once more, letting a small but polite smile pull at her lips. It was dwarfed by the beaming grin Fiddlesticks wore.

“Well, I suppose proper introductions are in order.” Octavia looked to her side, pulling her cello case up and lightly inspecting it for damages before turning back towards the earth mare. Extending her hoof, Octavia spoke on.

“My name is Octavia Melody, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The other earth pony took the hoof with her own gripping it with a strength that surprised the alicorn. She was further shocked when she found the proceeding handshake nearly lifting her from the ground.

“Good ta meet ya, Octavia! Mah name’s Fiddle Faddle, but ya can settle for Fiddlesticks.” Said mare let go of Octavia’s hoof, dropping the alicorn back to her hooves. It took the cellist a moment to collect herself, still feeling her mind shaking from the simple introduction. A quick jostle of her head, and she could see straight again.

“Yes, well,” Octavia spoke as he ran a hoof through her mane, straightening a few loose strands in her otherwise well maintained hair. “I hope it is not a far trip to your home. It can be rather tiring riding a train for so long.”

“Ah know that feelin’,” Fiddle seemed to agree with Octavia, turning from her gray twin as she motioned with her head. It was as clear a sign as any to follow. Octavia did so, pulling her cello beside her. “Ah can’t stand the idea of doin’ nothin’ fer that long. Ponies weren’t meant ta stay still, least not while we’re awake.” She mare snorted as if she made a joke. Octavia was not sure why.

“So, is your home within walking distance?” Octavia posed the question again, both hoping to start a conversation and develop an idea of how far away they were. Fiddle shook her head, white hat atop her long blue mane shaking lightly.

“Nope, sorry ta say we gotta hitch another ride.” The gray alicorn hid her sigh well.

She looked to her side, catching a glimpse of her hat sitting atop the concrete. She looked at it for a moment, needlessly deliberating over whether she should take it or not. She rather disliked the feeling of it sitting on her head, though it served the useful purpose of hiding her horn. The thing was such an act was needless now. Nevertheless, it would become required again back home. She reached for it, grabbing the stretched and stitched material without pause in her step.

“That’s a mighty tall hat ya got there,” Fiddle spoke to Octavia over her shoulder, noting the attire Octavia wore out of necessity alone. “Most of ya Canterlot type wear that? Haven’t been to tha’ big city enough ta know.” Again, another moment of silence was required for Octavia to decipher the speech.

“No,” she answered honestly, maneuvering the case of her cello around some ponies as she spoke. “It’s… an idea of Vinyl’s for me to wear.” Not a lie by any stretch of the imagination, but obviously hiding majority of the truth. Octavia was far from proud of herself.

“Pardon me if Ah don’t trust that unicorn with fashion sense,” Fiddle spoke back in response, her voice free of any animosity. She spoke of Vinyl as if noting a cloud in the sky. “That mare thinks wearin’ shades darker than night is a dandy trick, even when the sun’s tuckered out and the moon is gettin’ ready ta dance the night away.” Octavia felt her lips pull in another grin at the statement.

“True, and I will be the first to admit Vinyl is far from a fashion expert,” Octavia joined in the light banter about their friend, who she knew would appreciate the recognition. “But she does have an eye for necessity, even if it means lacking in other important areas.”

The pair descended the platform steps, Octavia carefully maneuvering her cello down the concrete landings. It was easier for her than most ponies as she had to perform that deed more often than others, especially during her early days within her musical career. Her parents had told her that the best musicians cared for their instruments, not simply thrusting them onto another to maintain.

“So, watcha ya got in there?” Octavia diverted her attention away from her cello long enough to see Fiddle pointing one of her hooves at the case.

“This? It is my cello,” Octavia easily explained. “It is the instrument I am most practiced in. I apologize, I thought Vinyl would have told you about it.” Fiddle, for her part, didn’t appear to be insulted nor had any of her interests perked.

“Oh, that’s it?” She asked in a tone of pure honesty. “Just figured most of the ponies from big cities liked ta pack their bags full fer the small trips.” This time when Octavia thought on the sentence, it was not out of confusion for the words being spoken, but to think on what Fiddle meant by the words. When it clicked, she shook her head bashfully.

“Oh no, I promise you that I am far from vain in such a regard,” Octavia heartfully promised her twin. “I simply trust myself more with my cello than some random pony who doesn’t consider how much it means to me.” The gray alicorn did not miss or take for granted the thoughtful and agreeing nod of Fiddle’s head.

“Good ta hear!” Fiddle replied with the same energy she had when they met minutes ago.

Turning away again, Octavia saw that the other mare was leading them to the street, packed like the Canterlot square during one of Princess Celestia’s public announcements. Ponies were side by side one another, crowding the side-walk as carriages trotted by, the ponies leading them making their daily living.

More than once, Octavia felt the grip on her cello loosen, forcing her to pull the case closer to herself, and eventually the same went for her jacket and hat. She found her wings, hidden still beneath the long folds of her jacket, holding themselves tightly against her bed, flexed more so than usual. She was holding her hat down with her hoof every other step, constantly raising it to adjust the tall piece of her attire to keep it from falling off again.

Speaking of hats, Octavia found herself keeping track of Fiddle by only hers, otherwise she’d have been lost in the sea of heads. Even in a city as packed as Fillydelphia, there were few ponies who walked around wearing a Stetson hat like the mare she saw as a miscolored twin. The white-brimmed hat was easily viewable among the many other colors of manes that dotted the cluster of ponies, all clambering down the same side-walk.

Octavia pushed her way through the crowd, her moves executed with great care so as not to attract unwanted attention. She was, however, far more concerned with losing track of Fiddle in the crowd.

“Octavia!” The mare called her full name, waving a hoof at her. Doubtlessly recognizing the cellist by her hat, the mare directed Octavia closer to her. The gray alicorn followed, finding herself finally pushing through the wall of ponies and to the near-open street. Open in that no ponies were walking through it, though the many carriages suggested it was far from barren.

“Guess Ah can see now why Vinyl wanted ya ta keep that hat.” Octavia looked at Fiddle, standing next to her and smirking with a grin that would not have looked out of place on her DJ friend. It took the cellist a minute to realize what said mare was talking about.

“Well, the ride ta the homestead’s here,” Fiddle spoke as she motioned to behind Octavia with one of her hooves. The gray mare turned, expecting to see the yellow paint of a taxi carriage. In a city like this, she wouldn’t have been too shocked to see a bicycle or two. Instead, she saw one of the last forms of transportation she expected to see in the city.

A wagon. A covered wagon.

It was far taller than most of the other transports that dotted the roads, doubtlessly due to its arcing white roof. It was longer still than it was tall, stretching Octavia’s length four fold, and with her newly ascended alicornhood, she was not a particularly small mare. Two stallions were at its helm, wearing coated harnesses that kept the rough leather from grating on their backs. Their own coats were matching in color, a light green accented by their yellow manes and tails. Fitting vests were wrapped around them, just beneath the harness attached to the wagon.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Fiddle asked from beside the clearly slack-jawed gray mare. “Been in the family fer generations. Needed a few repairs and fix-’er-uppers over them years, but she can run as quick as Cris and Pin there can gallop, somethin’ most of these city slickin vehicles couldn’t hope ta muster.”

Octavia was able to filter out the important information in the mare’s brief yet prideful speech. The two stallions’ names were one, Cris and Pin apparently, as well as the age of the vehicle. It was older than she was, looking to be every year it likely held. That was not something the cellist wanted to trust her life to.

“Wouldn’t it be better to obtain a… safer form of transportation?” Octavia tried her utmost to not offend with her suggestion. She had no doubt of Fiddle’s confidence, her own found more comfort in the engineering behind a more modern form of transportation, trains being a nearby and excellent example.

“Safer?” the violist asked back with a questioning tone. Her own head tilted as she angled her eyes, nearly hiding one beneath the wide brim of her alabaster hat. “Ya ain’t gonna get safer than Ol’ Jessey over here. Could run straight cross Equstria and not let any bumps ‘er holes stop her.” It had a name, Octavia realized through the speech. That was… something.

Though Octavia was far from vain, as she had made clear with words earlier, she was not above wishing for the better half of the methods presented in front of her. She would prefer a carriage or taxi over a covered wagon, she couldn’t deny. It was no different, she reasoned, than Vinyl preferring a shady nightclub to a private party; simply a personal preference.

Still, she couldn’t very well insult the mare and her family upon their first meeting, especially if she was to spend the next few days with them. First impressions were essential, and that sometimes required the repression of your own discomfort to make them successful. Stifling the wings hidden beneath her coat, and drawing a long breath, Octavia spoke to Fiddlesticks again.

“Very well,” she spoke with a tone she hoped projected optimism. “We should be off then. I trust that Cris and Pin can get us to your… homestead with haste.” The gray mare was glad her words had struck the right cord, at least she assumed she had by the one-sided grin Fiddle let pull at her cheek.

“Darn right they can!” The mare nodded energetically as she stomped one of her hooves into the pavement. “We’ll get back ta the farm ‘fore you can say ‘Appleloosa!’” Octavia nodded appreciatively. “Now c’mon, lets get yer cello in the back and your rump in a seat. Can’t get the wagon movin’ without ya in it.” The alicorn again dumbly nodded, once more clarifying the words as she followed behind the yellow coated mare.

They moved to the back of covered wagon, through the sea of ponies that dominated the walking section of the street. Octavia saw the few carts and boxes already loaded in the back, likely supplies that the rural ponies needed for the daily labor. She hoped that didn’t sound vain, even in her own mind. Looking to her cello behind her, she positioned it at her side before continuing.

Her mind played a simple bass chord, deep yet continuous. It surrounded the case in her gray aura, raising it into the air effortlessly. She added a violin’s chord next, a small quick pluck of the strings. It moved the black case into the wagon, letting the magical aura secure it against the floor, secured by a crate of supplies Octavia couldn’t see inside. The music in her mind ceased, and she was finished.

“Good ta see ya travel light,” Fiddlesticks noted behind her. “Puts ya ranks above the rest of them city slickers.” The earth pony nodded her head towards the train platform the two had only just moved from. Sure enough, Octavia could spy many more than one simple pony carrying more bags than they had hooves. Looking back at her own simple cello case, she was being undeniably modest with her possessions.

“I’m glad my priorities align with yours,” Octavia agreed, smiling politely as she nodded her head towards her palette-switched twin. Fiddle smirked as she tipped her hat.

“Well, best be gettin’. Can’t reach home if we stay here and let our hooves cool.” The metaphor Fiddlesticks alluded to escaped Octavia, but the gray mare recognized the call to leave when she heard it.

Nodding, she reached her hooves up, ascending the small yet surprisingly secure steps in the back of the wagon. It appeared that Fiddlesticks didn’t overstate the safety of the wagon, at least thus far. Then again, she had little to no reason to do much other than trust the mare. Vinyl may have been a lot of things, but she had good judgment in ponies.

“Scoot over a bit fer me, will ya?” Octavia, upon hearing the request, hastily moved aside, apologizing as she did so to the mare. Fiddle Sticks dismissed the words as she made her way into the wagon. “Ain’t nothin’ ta apologize fer. Jus’ needed some room ta get in. Hey!” The mare called towards the front, doubtlessly to the twin brothers, at least Octavia assumed they were twin brothers. “We’re all good back here, ya’ll ready to hightail it home?”

Knickers of agreement came from the front, the words escaping Octavia. She didn’t miss the confirming nods and grateful looks on the brothers, however, as they glanced back at what Octavia assumed to be their sister. It looked as if they weren’t any more fond of the tight quarters of Fillydelphia than Octavia herself. There was something comforting about finding that common ground so easily.

With a small jolt, Octavia felt the wagon begin to move, maneuvering through the busy streets as just another cart among the sea of others. Though she would prefer the comfortable seats of a carriage or isolated cabin of a train, it was hard to complain against being carried to her destination. She let a pleased sigh leave her lips as she rested against one of the boxes in the wagon.

“So,” she heard Fiddlesticks speak up besides her. “Aren’t ya gonna take that there jacket off? Can’t be good fer the wings, I reckin’.”

Octavia felt herself jolt upwards. Her eyes were wide, staring at the mare that was so nearly her twin. Fiddle only cocked her head, confused by the opposite mare’s reaction. The violist even shrugged her shoulders when the gray alicorn’s terrified expression refused to change.

“Wha? Ya’ll really think Vinyl’d keep that little tidbit away from me?” In all honesty, Octavia had hoped so. As if sensing the words, Fiddle waved her hoof. She waited a moment to speak, a passing horn deafening them. “Look, Vinyl told me all about yer… let’s just call it a surprise.” Octavia agreed with the term, but she had yet to let her face lax. “I ain’t gonna pretend it’s somethin’ me or the rest of the family’s gonna be able ta give you good advice on, but it’d be a shame to the Apple Family name ta not help out a friend.” Though her expression didn’t relax, Octavia felt her head cock, turning her shock into confusion.

“Help?” she repeated. She felt the wagon jostle around her as it made a sharp turn. She placed her hoof on the wooden crate next to her, boarded up and hiding its contents well. “If I may inquire, what did Vinyl say you were to help me with? To clarify, she told me you two had met off chance by our… similar appearances, yet your skill with the violin was hard to be matched.” Octavia watched as Fiddle shifted her head away, scratching at a patch of fur behind her neck.

“Ya, well, Vinyl wasn’t ever a mare ta keep things subtle, ain’t she?” Octavia felt herself give a small, but still faintly proper, snort at the words. It made Fiddle Sticks chuckle. “She told me ‘bout how this thing sorta… just happened. That ya were lookin’ fer some answers, but so far got near nothin’.” It was depressing, at least a little. Hearing another mare so easily sum of the lack of results over the past few weeks. Fiddle read the expressions over Octavia like a sheet of paper.

“Hey now, Ah’m not passin’ judgement er nothin’.” The mare continued. She went to raise her hoof, but kept it firmly against the wagon as it took another turn, quickening in pace to likely catch a changing light. “Vinyl said that playin’ yer cello seemed ta get a new kinda reaction from yer magic, so she wanted ta know if Ah could help ya out.” Octavia raised her gaze a hair, watching as Fiddle shifted her should uncomfortably.

“Ah’m not the kind a pony who ‘njoys gettin’ tossed in any lime lights, but Ah’d be hard pressed ta say no ta a mare that needs a hoof of support. Sides,” Fiddle assumed her confident, almost Vinyl-esque grin before speaking on. “Ah promised Vinyl one of the Apple Family Recipes fer Cider Pie, just ta make sure all secrets a kept liked tight as a barrel full of fresh apple fall cider.”

Octavia blinked, unspeaking for a moment. She felt the wagon hit a bump, her position shaking a little as it did so, but otherwise nothing more. Fiddle just continued to look at her, wearing a face and form that was so much like her, but wearing confidence that Octavia was hard pressed to ever say she possessed. It was hard for her not to trust the mare.

She allowed a smile to spill through her lips, chasing away the poison of discontent. Vinyl had yet to truly steer her wrong, at least apart from some pranks gone too far. This was not a prank and Vinyl was not a mare to purposefully cause harm. Fiddlesticks, as well, appeared to be genuinely concerned for her, something that was, while not foreign, still warm.

Instead of speaking, Octavia adjusted the heavy jacket from her back, feeling relief as some form of fresh air touched at the cramped edges of her wings. She breathed a sigh of relief as she let them expand, groaning in comfort as the cramped muscles were given the chance to stretch. She stopped only when she felt the sensitive feathers touch the boxed crates inside the wagon, but was still superior to the tight isolation of her jacket. Fiddle whistled lowly at the sight.

“Well Ah’ll be a crab apple grown in the Sweety Acres Orchard,” she spoke with a tone that swam in appreciation. Octavia watched as her miscolored counterpart adjusted the brim of her alabaster hat, wide eyes matching the broad smile across her muzzle. “Vinyl wasn’t jokin’.”

“No,” Octavia admitted. “Vinyl isn’t quite the pony in the habit of joking about another’s problems, not unless it’s in good humor.” The gray alicorn turned her attention toward the front of the wagon, watching the two green coated stallions head towards the outer limits of the city, noted by the drastic reduction in high-rise buildings. “So, how far is your home from the city’s end?”

“Ah,” Fiddle almost dismissed the question with her hoof, turning her head aside to match. “Probably a good hour ‘er two, nothin’ too bad.” That, by Octavia’s standards of transportation, was actually quite bad. She kept her lips shut, however. “Reckin’ we can pass the time with a bit of storytellin’, maybe a bit of history, what do ya think?”

The idea of passing a full hour with conversation was far preferred to passing it in silence.

“Well,” Octavia began with what she hoped to be a stimulating topic. “I am the only daughter of my parent’s union, bearing what they hope to be a great history for the family in the realm of musical arts.”

“That so,” Fiddle returned with a curious tone. “Gotta say our family is kinda’ off from the idea of single siblings.” Fiddle chuckled as she spoke. “Maybe Ah should catch ya up on what to expect when we get there.”

“Perhaps,” Octavia agreed. “But I would far prefer a shared discussion of our history, rather than a one-sided soliloquy.” At the blank stare of the violist, Octavia clarified her statement. “I think we should take turns talking about our differences, seeing as we already share most appearances.”

“Yeah,” the yellow earth pony snorted, tapping the top of her hat. “Most appearances.” It didn’t take the upbringing in high society to know what Fiddlestick was referring to. Octavia was of the same thought. “But yeah, Ah gotta ‘mit Ah wanna hear what life is like in Canterlot outside of ‘em dance parties Vinyl was so fond of. Ya mind sharin’ about that?”

“No,” Octavia easily answered her double, fond smile on her face. “Not so long as you care to speak of the family I am soon to meet.”

And for the next hour, Fiddlesticks and Octavia did just that.

“…So when you took that request and the Gala…” Fiddlesticks was barely holding back her laughter as Octavia was finishing up her story. It was not one of her brighter moments, but it was hardly something she could call boring.

“My colleagues and I began a cascading event that eventually led to the rapid destruction of the ceremony.” The alicorn let out a pitiable sigh as she let her head fall. Across from her, however, the exact opposite occurred.

Fiddlesticks brought her hat over her features in a vain attempt to stifle her laughter. She felt the chortles of mirth push through her throat, shaking her chest as felt a sort of guilty elation. She wrapped her forehooves about her carriage, poorly attempting to silence or quiet her display. She was completely unsuccessful. Octavia even heard a few chuckles from the brothers pulling the wagon.

“That’s a mighty fine way ta sum up rotten luck.” Eloquent as anything Octavia had heard her say before, Fiddlesticks summarized the alicorn’s story with a brash kind of ease. “But let’s get past that.”

“Yer timin’ was spot on, cause we’re back home!” To emphasize her point, the mare pointed out the back of the wagon. Curious, Octavia uneasily rose to her hooves, fully aware that the covered wagon was still moving, now likely on a dirt and unpaved road. When she reached the back, peeking her head out, the cellist saw quite a sight.

Rows of apple trees surrounded the road, towering over the predictably dirt path like gentle giants to a stray traveler. Their canopy of green leaves were dotted with cacophonies of red, yellow, green, and even a few attractive glimpses of gold. Each shone like a light with the sun reflecting off of them, begging to be picked and making a normally simple sight something magnificent.

She searched through the thick trunks of the trees, watching as the rows and rows of them passed by, all near perfectly aligned but all so evenly grown, all so amazingly strong. She saw the odd empty plot, the vacant spot of land, where she suspected a rotten or fully satisfied tree had once been. It somehow managed to make the sight before only that much more real, more honest.

Octavia drew in a deep breath, relishing the sweet taste that hung in the air down the orchard path. It filled her with a kind of energy she’d previously found only in an orchestral hall. It wafted over her nose, bidding her to shut her eyes to enjoy the scent for just a second more. Her wings lightly extended, perhaps expecting her to take flight. The idea was admittedly attractive.

“Whoa,” the voice of Fiddle brought the mare back to reality. “Settle yerself down there, partner.” Octavia felt her country-counterpart’s hoof on her shoulder, lightly instructing her to come back in. With a blush of embarrassment, Octavia did just that, huddling into her spot quicker than she would have liked. She didn’t miss the light smirk over Fiddle’s lips. “So Ah’m gonna venture another guess and say ya like the site, don’t cha?”

Octavia paused for a moment before speaking. “It is… amazing.” She debated using a more reserved compliment, in fact she debated to speak at all, but she realized that speaking falsely or without the respect the orchard deserved would be doing an injustice.

After all, just as she had honed her craft over years on the cello, this family doubtlessly perfected their orchard over generations of hard labor. It was hard not to appreciate the work that doubtlessly went into it. It would be unjust to say nothing more than a single word.

“The air alone is invigorating. I hesitate to think what will happen if I were to taste one of the apples.” The snickering from Fiddlesticks was joined by the blue maned mare adjusting her alabaster hat, perhaps to show of the crooked and confident glint in her eyes, as if she were about to stupefy Octavia. A part of the alicorn didn’t doubt it.

“Well, first off, it’s ain’t if, it’s when. Ain’t no way, no how yer comin’ ta the farm without gettin’ at least a lick of what we got growin’.” The mare held up her hoof as if to count. Octavia was sure Fiddle was well enough aware that she could only count to one on a singular hoof. “Second, compliments are much obliged. Don’t get as many ponies ta the farm as ya might imagine. Most of the time it’s just a carrier ‘er somethin’ lookin’ ta resupply.”

“Oh, but aren’t they your primary source of income? I mean, I doubt you cart these apples to Fillydelphia each day alone.” Fiddle’s grin only grew with the statement. Octavia was right, she was about to be stupefied. “Do you?”

“What do ya think’s in those crates, carrots?” Fiddle pointed to the wooden boxes aside Octavia, only now allowing the mare to guess at what was in them. In truth, the alicorn felt foolish for not assuming that was what they were. “Gotta get them there early then haul what we can back. What doesn’t make the stand in the market makes the cider in the mill. Ain’t no waste in any apple. Even a rotten core is good for compost.”

And again, twice over, Octavia was impressed with her double. She only hoped that she would be able to repay the feeling by day’s end, in some way. The cart make a small jerk. It took the alicorn only a glance to see it was because the pair of brother’s had stopped. A cursory glance past them showed why.

“Welp, back on the saddle,” Fiddle spoke from beside Octavia, pushing to her hooves and taking the few steps necessary to reach the back of the wagon. With a small jump, she hit the ground. Octavia diverted her attention to the mare, rising to her feet as well. She folded her wings across her back, grabbing the case of her cello as she made way to the rear of the wagon as well.

With only a quick hop and sudden stop, the mare found her hooves resting on the dirt, black cello case sitting on the lip of the wagon behind her, and the grinning face of her blue-maned counterpart observing her. The mare swept one of her forehooves forwards, motioning to the buildings behind Octavia.

“Welcome ta Sweet Filly Orchard!” The mare spoke with a voice saturated in pride. Her beaming smile made encircled her swelled stature. Octavia found herself smiling as well, followed by a polite bow to Fiddle.

“It is my pleasure to be here, Fiddlesticks. I thank you earnestly for the help you are providing me.” She heard snickering from above her, but knew the mare well enough by now to know there was no malice behind it. It was more similar to a foal with a mischievous notion than a mare with a devious mind.

Instead of Fiddle speaking on, however, Octavia heard the small pitter patter of tiny hooves. Both mares turned to see a small filly walking up to them, the wonder of the stars in her eyes. Octavia had to blink to ensure herself that she wasn’t just seeing spots.

The filly was small, doubtlessly passed a few years in age, with a green coat that was a shade lighter than the twins that pulled their wagon. It was impossible to miss the bright blue gaze of wonder in her eyes, only partially concealed by the short mane hanging down in a nicely light pink color. Her gaze shifted from her, to Fiddle and back again.

“Is tha’ one of the princesses?!”

That was bad.

It wasn’t until the question was posed from behind her that Octavia realized, with dread, that she was exposed. Her wings were not hidden by any coat, her horn was not hidden by any hat, and the clearly glowing sun betrayed nopony’s sight. She bit her lips, unsure of how to react.

Octavia’s mind began to race. Was the secret out already? Was she going to have to tell everyone what happened to her? Explain what she had yet to understand herself? She wasn’t ready for that, there was no way-

“Stop yer wagon wheels, sis.” Octavia blessed Celestia’s name for the interjection.

She turned her head to see her yellow-coated counterpart striding over to the younger mare. Fiddlesticks had her eyes on the smaller pony, smirking like she was in on some secret. To the younger filly, however, she truthfully was.

“Fiddle? Who is she?” The younger pony spoke up again, asking her apparent elder about Octavia. The gray alicorn reminded herself that the pony was likely too young to be held to common expectations of etiquette.

“She’s a friend from the big city, helpin’ us out so we can help her out,” Fiddle began to explain. “Somethin’ happened with the real princesses and her, so she’s layin’ low fer it ta get sorted out. No biggy.” It wasn’t the greatest lie Octavia had ever heard, but she had to admit it was far more believable than the truth. That realization alone was a little disturbing to the once-earth pony.

“O-o-o-oh,” the younger mare replied, her wide blue eyes still staring at sister. They turned to look at Octavia. The gray alicorn adopted an uneasy grin, trying her best to look nonplused. “That’s so cool!” Octavia had enough time to blink before the green coated filly was at her hooves, looking up at her with to comparable size of saucers.

“Mah name’s Candy Apple an’ Ah’m the best in the family in makin’ candy apples!” The declaration was hardly surprising following the filly’s name. “So what’s yer name?”

“I-I am Octavia Melody,” the alicorn returned with a short bow, following her stumbling start. She blamed the trip for shaking her, but she knew it was more than that. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Candy.” She extended her hoof towards the young filly, who took it eagerly and began to shake.

That was when another voice echoed across the orchard.

“Wow! Is that one of the princesses?”

The trio looked to see a young colt staring at them now, blue eyes and green coat like Candy, but with a brown mane atop his head. He was staring forward with as much awe as the young filly was before. Fiddlesticks was about to take up the mantle to explain again, but her younger sibling beat her to it.

“Nah, she’s not, she’s here from the big city helpin’ us out! She’s stayin’ here fer a while till things smooth over!” Candy shouted the announcement clear across the orchard, causing the little colt to come running over. Just like the filly before him, he stopped at Octavia’s hoofs, staring up at her with an unblinking gaze of wonder.

“Hey there!” he let out in an accent not far from the two ponies Octavia had already met. “Mah name’s Caramel Apple, and mah special talent is makin’ caramel apples!” Octavia was beginning to sense a trend.

“Hello there Caramel,” Octavia returned kindly, more prepared for a meeting now. “My name is Octavia Melody, and I thank you for the comfort of your home.” She extended her hoof towards him, letting the colt shake it just as vigorously as the previous filly.

“Well Ah’ll be.” Octavia’s ears perked and she repressed a sigh, suspecting already the next comment. “Ya’ll wouldn’t happen ta be one of the princesses now would ya?”

“Nope, she’s a friend of Fiddle’s, come here ta lay low cause somethin’s getting’ sorted out with the princess!” Caramel responded to the voice with an answer slightly less detailed than Candy’s. If Octavia remembered her own foalhood games, the line would end with her hiding from arrest due to her assassination attempt.

She turned politely, looking to properly introduce herself to the new voice. She came face to face with a stallion, likely in between Fiddlestick’s age and the green twins from earlier. His coat was a lighter orange, a mane of red as well, though mostly hidden beneath a tied green bandana, likely to keep any stray hairs from falling into his eyes.

“Well, good ta hear Fiddle brought a gal ta see the homestead, hope ya’ll are enjoyin’ the view so far.” He trotted the short distance towards the alicorn before extending his hoof, smiling with a proud gaze not unlike Fiddle’s own. “Name’s Tart, and Ah’m the one in charge of gatherin’ most ‘a the apples ta the south.”

Octavia lightly noted three important facts. The stallion’s name, his polite nature, and that the farm was apparently large enough to require multiple sections of responsibility. Most homes did, she realized, but not often for one large chore.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Tart,” Octavia returned, bowing lightly to the stallion. “I thank you for your hospitality.” The orange stallion grinned and nodded his head, affirming the welcome.

“Well wouldja’ looky here!” Octavia had to suppress the groan that came from her throat. Instead of turning towards the new elderly-sounding voice, she turned to her doppelganger, letting a slightly worried look overtake her. Judging by the amused look Fiddle returned, this was at least close to the normal reaction as far as new meetings went.

“Your family is… how large again?” Octavia could clearly recall the mare mentioning the size of her family in the trip from Fillydelphia, but the exact number escaped her. Judging by the pause that followed, the mare had to count herself.

“On this here orchard? Reckin’ ‘bout twenty strong, myself and the twins in that number.” Octavia sighed as she heard another surprised gasp, followed by the inquiry into her form. She predicted Caramel’s interjection easily. As far as introductions went, there could have been worse, and they were at least halfway done.

“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” Octavia spoke to the eventual crowd of ponies in front of her, all beaming with a sort of inviting aura, stuck somewhere between wonder and joy. “I thank you again now for extending your aid to me in this… tribulation of mine.”

“Wha’ does tri-bull-late-tion mean?” Candy asked aloud, tucked beneath the legs of Tart. She looked up at her brother as she asked, meeting his gaze as he looked down with the same charming smile he had given Octavia upon their first encounter.

“Jus’ means thing’s fer her are ‘bout as bumpy as a post-winter’s road.” Despite the cryptic answer in Octavia’s interpretation, the small filly seemed to beam with understanding. She settled that it was simply a cultural difference and dismissed it. “And we’re all good ponies, sa we’re gonna make sure she leave’s us right as rain, understand?”

“Yup!” Candy almost jumped as she agreed. “She’s gonna have the bestest time! Ah’ll make extra sure of it.” Octavia felt touched and grinned at the filly’s earnest words. Her elders around her all chuckled as well, likely amused by what she guessed was a common occurrence with the young one. Fiddle joined in beside the alicorn.

Octavia took the brief moment in time to survey the home beneath the large family. She had glanced at it from the wagon, and shortly after setting hoof on the ground, but only now was she able to really appreciate it, and it was appreciation the large construct certainly deserved.

Though she was used to buildings made of stone, concrete, or steel, the large home and barn beside it were naught but wood and thatched hay, a rather clever use of food, she idly noted. The home itself, where the family doubtlessly slept in conjoined and shared rooms, was two stories tall, but near as wide as the train station she had left earlier. A porch stretched wide past the front door, covered by an angled roof and pillars to support it. A screened door gave entrance to the home, and Octavia didn’t doubt for a moment that there was another behind the large house. Though it was painted homely as well, in a bright red that seemed appropriate in an orchard of apples. Windows lined the appropriate walls, though all currently reflected the golden rays of the sun rather than allowing her to peek inside.

But for as large as the home was, the barn beside it was likely larger. By height, Octavia was sure of it. By volume, she could only guess. Though it wasn’t as wide and perhaps only equally as deep as the home, it was far taller than the home itself, as appropriate for most of the barns she had seen in pictures or read about from literature. Painted a darker red, or perhaps less maintained than the home itself, it had two large swinging doors, and the signature open window at the top.

“Alright!” Octavia turned to see Fiddle speaking up to her family, resting on her haunches and clapping her hoofs together to gather their attention. The cellist supposed she was one of the authority figures of the family. Appropriate, as she was coming of age, at least Octavia could assume so if the two were as close in age as they were in appearance. “Ya’ll better take the rest ya need, cause we’re gonna be workin’ the fields today! Gotta get the shipment ready fer next week, and we ain’t gonna miss that deadline, are we?”

“Aww!” The energetic response was reserved for the younger ponies in the large family, Candy, Caramel, and their two siblings, but the rest of the family nodded in agreement. Then without further ado, they dispersed.

Octavia watched the kids run inside, likely to either take the rest that Fiddle had prescribed or to finish whatever they were previously up to. The majority of the older members of the family, Tart included, moved out into the field, starting to work already with a few buckets hanging from their sides. She missed them donning them at all, and appreciated their efficiency.

Fiddle was soon approaching her, smiling with a shadows cast over her features by the brim of her hat. She looked every bit as confident and in control as Octavia wished to be. It did help to see herself, or at least a version of herself, appearing to be so.

“So,” Octavia began uneasily, watching Pin, or perhaps Cri, take her cello case to the home’s porch. She was thankful he was being careful with it, at least. “I assume you’ll be giving me the grand tour?”

“Nope,” The yellow coated mare spoke in an almost laughter-like voice. “We’re gonna start workin’ in the field first!” The sheer sincerity with which the earth pony spoke left the alicorn dumbfounded.

“What?”

“Yer gonna start workin’ with me, silly!”

Octavia felt her stomach plummet as her yellow-coated twin beamed at her with a broad grin. Contrarily, Octavia’s own expression fell.

“B-But I-I have no idea what to do, o-or how to care for the apples, o-or where to go… o-or…” All her words seemed to do was get the other mare to chuckle at her. Octavia would have pouted if she were not truly uneasy about the prospect of hard work so suddenly being thrust upon her.

“Aw, don’t cha worry none,” Fiddle poorly tried to comfort the mare, patting the alicorn’s side as if she were some sort of scared foal. To be fair, she likely was acting similarly to one. “We’re not gonna have a guest do a full day’s labor, that ain’t right. ‘Sides, if we’re gonna want to have time for a string section later, we best be getting’ busy now.”

“Wait, what?” Octavia weakly asked two of the most overused and abstract words in the Equestrian language. They were the only two words she believed she had time to speak. And yet, judging by the way Fiddle was already trotting into the orchard, picking up an empty basket as she moved, Octavia was sure it wasn’t quick enough. She quickly took off after her doppelganger.

“Um, Fiddlesticks?” Octavia spoke the mare’s name like a question, keeping pace next to her as they walked between the rows of trees. The alicorn put the scent of the sweet apples out of mind while she tried to speak to the mare. “I apologize, but I don’t understand what you meant. Are you to say you will not play with me unless I aid you with the chores?”

“Chores?” Fiddle asked with a raised brow, managing to push the brim of her hat up as she did so. “It’s more like six of one, half dozen of the other, Ah mean, ain’t there no better way ta show ya the farm then ta have ya out here workin’ a bit?” The mare laughed, a jovial tone that Octavia couldn’t convince herself to join in, even halfheartedly. Fiddle seemed to pick up on it, and her smile fell slightly. “Look, its like Ah said, Ah ain’t expectin’ ya ta work dusk till dawn, just enough ta earn a little sweat on the brow. Vinyl seemed ta like it after a bit.”

And of course, it came back to Vinyl, the unicorn that was simultaneously her blessing and her curse. Octavia hid her distaste well, a practiced effort that the years had given her a talent for. It was no doubt that the whole reason this was possible was because Vinyl had convinced Fiddle, through one of the alabaster mare’s many means, that Octavia was willing to mimic whatever excursion the two had taken some time ago.

The alicorn resigned her fate to a bit of hard work, as she could imagine far worse assignments than this. It didn’t take long for the pair to stop in front of a tree, far taller than Octavia and holding dozens of ripe apples on each of its branches. Fiddle set the basket down at the base of three, pushing it until its edge was nearly against the bark.

Then, without ceremony or instruction, she reared her hind legs and bashed the trunk forcefully.

Octavia watched, stunned, as apples all fell into place.

“That easy,” Fiddle replied aside the alicorn, grinning coolly as she adjusted the brim of her hat. Octavia felt as though she should take that as a good thing, but struggled with what she just witnessed.

“That’s… all we do?” She did her utmost to make her voice sound like an inquisitive mare, and not a hopeful foal. The yellow coated mare’s affirmative nod meant the world to Octavia.

“Yup, just aim and kick,” Fiddle replied back simply, already repositioning the partway-full basket to beneath another branch. “When the apples are good and ripe, they’re ready ta just topple ta the ground. Only needs a good jostle ta knock em loose, nothin’ too big ‘er might, just enough ta let them know its safe ta land.” Once Octavia translated those words, the meaning behind them was obvious.

Curiously, she turned around, raising her hind leg until it tapped lightly on the bark of the tree. Scooting closer to it, making sure she was good and balanced, she took in a breath of air. Steeling herself, Octavia reared and kicked her leg, feeling the trunk of the tree push back against her with an almost painful force. She hissed, unused to the soreness that almost immediately rushed into her leg, leaving her to pull back the limb and let it dangle uselessly beneath her.

The act was quickly followed with one apple landing squarely on her head, impaling itself on her horn.

Fiddle burst out laughing next to her, as Octavia heard a large thump on the ground next to her; she was unsure if what she heard was more apples falling to the ground as a result of her kick, or Fiddle’s mirth eventually toppling her over. With the ripe apple juices flowing down her coat and pooling beneath the sockets of her eyes, it made it difficult to see which, though she suspected both.

She knelt her head down, lowering her body to the soft grassy floor. When her carriage rested on the dirt, she raised her forehooves, grabbing the insulting fruit with a strong grasp. With an equally strong tug, the fruit slid off of her horn, leaving behind a sticky mess across her features. Octavia was glad Vinyl was not here, else she would have likely made an inappropriate joke.

“H-Hey now,” Fiddle replied uneasily, due more to her attempts at stifling her laughter than actual nervousness. “It’s alright, no reason ta’ crease the brow.” Octavia understood that comment instantly.

“I apologize,” Octavia responded as dutifully as ever, as she if she were a foal again, being scorned for forgetting her bow with her cello. Fiddle waved off the comment.

“Nah, Ah’m the one who should be ‘plogizin’, Ah went an’ laughed at ya when ya really gave a fine first try for buckin’ the tree.” The cellist chose to raise a single brow at the statement, creases non-present. “Ah’m serious. Most ponies that try and copy this cat end up bendin’ their leg the wrong way or just flat out fallin’ over. Ya at least got them apples out of the tree. Just need ta work on the aim is all.”

That… was true. Octavia hadn’t thought about it, especially not with a ripe fruit impaled on her still-new horn like a kebab, but she supposed she did more right than wrong, at least for a first attempt. She let out a tired sigh, Though it still didn’t change that she had plenty of blue-collar labor to look forward to.

“I assume we are clearing only a few trees, correct?” Octavia ventured the question, waiting patiently as Fiddle readjusted the still only partially filled basket, aiming up another kick. Her doppelganger gave an affirmative nod before gripping the brim of her hat. She gave another swift buck backwards, jolting the tree and sending half a dozen more apples plummeting into the wooden container. The violist acted like it was nothing at all, though Octavia figured that to the green mare it likely was.

“Well, a few don’t really cut it, but if ya mean we only got buck some of ‘em clean, then ya, that’s right.” The mare tapped the basket with her forehooves, lining it up for another set of apples. “Ah’d say by the time we’re done, you’ll be collectin’ like a pro.” Octavia, who was used to years of tutelage before being declared even competent, doubted that. She did not voice that thought.

“Then, if I may inquire, how many trees are we to… clear?” She did her best to not sound like a foal eagerly looking to abandon her chores in way of recreation. In truth, it was exactly what she felt like, and the guilt gnawed at her like Vinyl on a cider binge.

Fiddlesticks puckered her lips, tilting her head and looking beyond the gray alicorn. It took Octavia moment to realize she was looking past her and not at her, to her slight relief. She turned, seeing the long line of trees behind them, stretched seemingly forever with the thick foliage and rolling hills. She didn’t like the implications before her.

“Ya see that rock over yonder?” Fiddle asked with a point of her hoof. Octavia had to strain her eyes to see it, but she eventually spotted the undeniable hard surface of dark earth jutting from the ground, blocking what would have otherwise likely been another plot for an apple tree. She supposed it was either too big or too much work to move, though knowing these ponies she suspected the former. Octavia noted its slightly-significant distance from them.

“An’ do ya see that toy over there, the one Ah’m gonna have ta get Caramel ta clean up later?” Octavia turned her head to see the, she assumed to be for Fiddle, infuriating toy. It was a small doll-like thing, wrapped in the garb one of Celestia’s guards and holding a wooden spear at its side. It would have been unnoticeable if it were not for the vibrant purple over the brown and green of the orchard floor. Again, Octavia took note of how it was just far enough to be suitably deemed not nearby.

“We’re gonna clear every tree from there ta there.”

Octavia felt her wings fall at the words. Conversely, Fiddle only seemed to cheer up at the idea.

“Ain’t no hassle,” she spoke encouragingly to her doppelganger. “We’ll be done before ya know it.”

Octavia very much doubted that...

…and Octavia hated how right she was.

Whatever the amount of time had truly passed was, it mattered little to the now-spent and weary mare. Her throat burned for moisture, mane mangled like a wind’s toy, and muscles cramped as if leagues had been run in them. She dragged her hooves across the floor of the orchard, only barely taking hoof steps forward without completely toppling over.

She and Fiddle had cleared no less than one hundred trees. One hundred. Three digits of the lowest acceptable order of significance. The number hung in her head like the warning bells of a alarm, blaring that her limit was beyond reached. It was now a distant marker in the past. She had sweat, tears, and probably even blood on her hooves to prove it.

Her head hung low, wobbling to and fro. Each breath she took in was strained and each one she let out was a groan. She had never been one to shirk the joy of sleep and reprieve, but now she was near the idea of declaring a bed a god and the pillow her goddess, both saints that bestowed upon weary mares the gifts of sleep and peace. She would worship them both now if it meant they could stop.

Oddly enough, when Fiddle spoke up, it felt as if her prayers were being answered.

“Welp, that’s about all we got fer our shift,” Fiddlesticks spoke from beside the tired and near catatonic alicorn.

Octavia, the city raised mare, looked up at the earth pony, unable to match her height with her head desiring to lie on the floor so dearly. The yellow coated pony, however, was smiling as if this was just an average day. In all likelihood, it probably was.

“So… we’re done here?” Octavia asked the words without being able to hide the elation in her voice. Work was work, of that she had no complaint, but the amount of hard labor she had performed had made more than one pair of muscles lax and give.

Her question only made Fiddlesticks chuckle. That didn’t bode well.

“Done pickin’ the apple from them trees, but we ain’t close ta being done in the field.” It was one of the most tangential thoughts she could have had, but Octavia was once more bewildered by the uncanny resemblance the two had yet polar personalities they possessed. She couldn’t imagine ever having the energy of this mare.

“So… what is left… to do?” The gray mare questioned, twice as wary when her lighter colored twin grinned down at her. Her head shifted to the side, pointing with the tip of her white Stetson hat towards the house.

“We’re gonna get the instruments out n’ start playin’ a workin’ tune!” Octavia was sure it was the thick accent that made her mishear the mare.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated aloud. “We are going to play and work?” Though the gray alicorn was far from loathe to play her cello, something she had been hoping to do for several hours now, she had no dream of doing so while picking apples. It seemed an impossible task and one she didn’t have heart or mind to try.

“No, ya silly jeckel,” the mare jokingly dismissed as she lightly knocked Octavia’s side. The light blow was almost enough to send the cultured mare to the grass. “We’re gonna get a tune’ singin’ in the air fer the rest of the family ta work to. Just had ta get our work outta the way so we wouldn’t be haven’ ta pick up the slack later.”

The mare was already walking towards the barn when she finished speaking, Octavia following behind her, albeit at a drastically reduced pace. It was hard to follow another pony when one’s limbs felt prepared to fall off. It was only to the alicorn’s immense relief that they did not venture far into the orchard.

Their hoof beats turned from dull thumps to hollow pounding as they reached the wooden porch, walking the two or three steps up to the platform. It felt like climbing a mountain to the weary mare. But off to the side, leaning against the railing, Octavia saw her blessed instrument, awaiting her and still locked tightly in its case. Though she was close to worshipping her bed, the comfort and home that was her cello could never be fully replaced.

Fiddle scooted down the porch with barely any effort, not visibly tired in the least by the work they had finished. Octavia could believe it, at least following years of practice. She saw her blue-maned host stop by her cello reaching behind it and sliding out another black case, shaped eerily similar to Octavia’s own, but drastically smaller. It took little time to deduce what was inside.

“So… you practice the violin… so that you will help your family, correct?” Octavia had just reached the case of her own instrument as she asked the question, thankful that she would need to sit in a moment, albeit to prepare and play her instrument. The shaking of Fiddle’s head, however, dismissed the cellist’s words.

“Nah, ain’t nothin’ that complicated.” Her hoof waved like her head as she spoke. “Ah just figured a bit of time ago that some good ol’ music ‘ill keep the family workin’ the orchard longer, make it easier ta get the job done, ya know?” Once more, Octavia had to think through the words before she answered.

Even as she unlocked her instrument’s case, lightly ensuring the safety of her prized cello, she pieced together the violist’s words. She wasn’t playing out of an initial curiosity, like some foals, or because her parents had bade her to, like most others. She did it out of belief that it would help her family, independent of herself. That was new to Octavia.

“If I may ask,” she began as she drew the cello from the black case, letting its tail sit on the wooden floor of the deck as the body lent against her. The chair supported her and the instrument well. “Why did you think playing the violin would aide your family with collecting fruit?”

“’Cause there ain’t nothing like a lively tune ta make the time go by.” It was such an easily spoken answer that Octavia almost missed its meaning. Thankfully, Fiddle seemed to be used to answering the question, as she spoke on.

“Ya see, Ah ain’t learned much growin’ up in the schoolyard, ‘cept some math here or there, but I did remember once lesson mah teach told us. That was how nature hates vacuums, ‘er empty space, cause Ah didn’t’ know what a vacuum meant aside from cleaning.” The earth pony chuckled at her words, hoofs adjusting the strings on her violin, lain still across the porch.

“Yes,” Octavia agreed. “I remember hearing that as well. Only it was taught as a reminder to choose the periods of our silence carefully whilst in the symphony.” Something the gray mare said must have hit the right note, because she saw Fiddle point her hoof at her with an excited grin when she finished. Octavia felt her eyebrow crook at the sight.

“That’s what Ah thought of, the silence bit,” she emphasized. “Ah’m sure you could tell how quiet the orchard was, spare blue jay ‘er squirrel aside.”

She hadn’t put any thought into it, but Octavia realized that her yellow-coated copy was right.

Aside from their small talk and the beating of hoofs on trees, there wasn’t a sound as they worked. No carts passing on the road nearby, no ponies talking as they trotted along, no noise from nearby apartments, nothing at all. It was, as her parents had once described to her, the peacefulness of the countryside.

That, however, was reserved for when work was done and it was time to rest. Though her work depended on noise, Octavia could fully understand either the annoyance or the discontent that would come from long hours of labor without a tune to carry you through it. It would be akin to a book without characters. There would always be something missing.

Octavia settled on the chair behind her as she adjusted her cello, careful on balancing on the stool. It felt rickety beneath her, but she very much doubted a mare or family like Fiddle’s would allow an improperly cared for item to be on their farm. They didn’t seem the type to let things wither away, in any sense of the word.

Next to her, however, Fiddle had opted to stand on her rear legs.

It was not a sight that the alicorn was foreign to, and far from alien of, but it was still odd for to see. Most ponies only stood on their rear hoofs when they had an object to lean against, to support their otherwise tall stature. She herself was a good example, when she had to stand to play her cello. Fiddle, however, seemed fully capable and thrilled to hold her violin in the crook of her neck as she stood on her rear hooves. Not once did she appear to be off balance or even crooked.

Octavia smiled. It was doubtlessly a small but powerful testament to the frequency at which her doppelganger played. She was glad the two shared that trait.

“So, what are we playing?” Octavia questioned the mare, sure the answer would something close to ‘whatever sounds right.’ The answer she received wasn’t far off.

“Somethin’ that ya think will get the rest of the family dancin’,” Fiddle replied, grinning the broad grin she seemed incapable of losing. Octavia took that small amount of time to look out beyond the porch, at the rest of the orchard and the few family members she could see.

Tart was the closest to them, standing maybe a few rows down, not very far from where Fiddle and Octavia had worked just earlier. He had a pair of baskets beneath the tree, likely working on a technique that Fiddle had better mind than to force on Octavia for her first time. The gray alicorn was thankful. She could not see Caramel or Candy, knowing fully well that they were inside either preparing the treats they were so named for or simply enjoying life in the way only foals can.

She did not see Sharp or Shine, the elder couple of the family she had been introduced to earlier. Despite their clear… advancement in age, Octavia was impressed to see that they were still walking around with near the same effort as she, at least preceding her work in the orchard. They had expressed the most joy at seeing her cello case, and the alicorn did not miss the knowing eyes they offered to Fiddlesticks, clearly expecting the two to play together.

The rest of the ponies, however, she suspected were either far out in the orchard or working in the barn. Fiddlesticks did say that they needed to turn the unsold apples into cider material in a hurry, because a rotten apple did no good for anypony but the dirt. She imagined that was where Cri and Pin were, likely June-Bug as well. A nice mare, if a bit energetic. Octavia suspected that she sampled one too many glasses of her sugar-laced drink.

If they wanted to hear a song, the family entire, they probably want to hear something that was upbeat, full of energy generally the exact opposite to what she was feeling right now. An energetic song would make the day easier, perhaps pass by faster. Fast days at work were usually the most enjoyable for ponies.

Her usual pieces, performed to ponies content to sleep in their chairs, would surely not work. If she were to repeat her performance with Vinyl, however it would have left Fiddlesticks grasping for a tune to follow, clearly not an option. Actually, it occurred to the alicorn, almost anything they played would be based off of feeling, as neither could confirm what the other knew, and it was even further doubtful the two shared any songs appropriate for the moment.

She was leading though, that much was made clear by Fiddlesticks. She had to lead with an intro that was strong, easy to follow, and most importantly, energetic. Not the three greatest strengths in her music, but far from unpracticed.

Octavia took in a deep breath of air, smelling the rich fragrance of apples again, of the land free of any industrialization or over-crowding populace. The air was rich, full of a taste that she couldn’t describe. She let her muscles relax before she lifted them, letting them guide the bow in her hoof to the string on her cello. She was going to play, and she was going to wow an entire family.

The only thing she needed now was what Vinyl constantly accused her of lacking: imagination.

BEGIN

Immediately, Octavia started tapping her hoof on the floorboards of the porch, pulling the bow across her strings in tandem. The cello in her hoofs shook with the hard beating, the vibrations of her efforts disrupting the wooden platform it stood on, but it only encouraged the alicorn to wrap her wings about the body, holding it secure as she continued to play.

Her hind legs created the tempo, her strings the beat, and Fiddle followed alongside her almost instantly.

The violinist took up pace next to her, playing at the higher pitches that were common for the smaller string instruments. Instead of simply copying the alicorn, however, Fiddle opted to up her own tempo, adding notes between the chords Octavia played, making them a true duet, and not merely a soliloquy of two parts.

It was good, but not nearly enough. Octavia, already in the lead, decided to see how far ahead she could pull.

She wasn’t aware of what the beat was, of any place she had heard it or person who had taught it to her, but she played it as if she knew it well. Strumming beats that sounded more like pulls at the string, quick chords connected by long deep notes, never letting a moment of silence hold the strings. Her hind leg never stopped beating on the porch as she played.

Though she was fatigued, Octavia felt her head bobbing with the beat, lips pulled into a grin as she continued to play. There were no words that came with this song, at least none that she knew, but despite that she felt her smile begin to twitch, as if mouthing words she didn’t know.

She heard the tapping of hoofs next to her, far faster and more sporadic than her own beat carrying leg. It took only a moment of thought to realize that it was Fiddlesticks next to her, dancing on her hind legs as she carried along with the violin. She was letting Octavia lead, but she was by no means being left behind.

The cello in her hoofs and wings vibrated with the song, as if attempting to sing the same words Octavia didn’t know. It carried through the air, dancing through the rich open orchard like an eager foal at the park. Octavia played on, feeling renewed vigor with every string she played and note she performed.

Then she hit the chorus, she supposed at least, as far as she could tell playing the same section again, Fiddlesticks beside her matching as she had before. The doppelganger mare seemed to have increased her tap-dancing whilst she played, moving farther away from the gray alicorn between the notes, only to dance back as she played some more.

Octavia played on, bobbing her head and whispering the same phantom words, loving every moment that passed and adoring each one that approached. She felt renewed, invigorated, alive.

Then Fiddle started to play a bit louder, a bit faster, attempting to overtake the cellist for a place in the lead. Octavia gladly handed the reins over to her yellow-coated double, dropping in volume to allow the transition to be clean. Fiddlesticks didn’t waste a moment.

Octavia could see Fiddle now, even with her eyes closed and head bobbing to the beat she didn’t know she had. She could see the mare, see her sibling, see them all. As Fiddle continued to play, Octavia could see every member of the Apple family.

She could see Fiddlesticks just next to her dancing to the song they played, pirouetting and spinning to beat that they had conjured from the ether. Her mane danced with her, blue hair wrapping about her yellow coat without letting a strand tangle. The alabaster hat atop her head bounced with the movement, rising and falling as the mare raised and lowered her head, but never did it even pretend to fall from the mare’s top.

But then she could see the young foals, Candy and Caramel, working inside. They were dancing too, but in a manner completely alien to the manner in which Fiddle did. They were beating their hooves on the counter, making a beat they moved to in tune with the song. They threw sugary treats at sugar coated fruit, whisking their mane and tail back and forth as if it were a well practiced tradition.

Around the filly and colt, finished projects started to show. Half a dozen sweetly glazed caramel apples, decorated with sugary sparkles and other delicatessen-like treats. One by one the amount grew, each more tantalizing than the next, begging for a hungry pony to sample one of them.

But then Octavia was back in the Orchard, staring out through the field of apple trees, but it appeared to be a different orchard entirely. Before, each one of them had their own color, their own fragrance, and their own appeal to the mare’s eye. They still did as that had not changed, but now it was impossible to merely call them fruit.

Each one glowed their respective hue of green or red, each shining like a beacon to the hungry mare. Each one had a taste that would be worthy of a five-course meal. Each one, Octavia knew, was the result of years of hard work, planning, and dedication on part of the Apple family, traditions and chores followed day in and day out. One such of those ponies was working the orchard now, and Octavia watched him dance.

It was Tart, bandana damp with sweat and mane swinging like a loose lasso. His head was swinging left and right, grin broad across his features. Cheeky and confident, he was grapevining between the trees, stopping in his zig-zag like dance to buck the trunk of the trees. Each kick he delivered was both powerful, on tempo, and able to fill the buckets beneath the tree whole, all without ever stopping his dance.

Then he would slide the baskets, holding them in his hooves as the song went on. Like having a partner in on the dance floor, Tart was guiding the full basket of apples across the grass, setting them aside to get another. He was working, doing the same labor that had put Octavia to her knees in exhaustion, but his grin only told part of the story that Octavia could feel.

He was loving the work.

All around the orchard, Octavia could hear, feel, and see each member of Fiddle’s family, all while their song went on.

Cri and Pin were in the barn, working with June-Bug just as Octavia had thought. They were crushing apples beneath their hooves, turning the unsold fruit into mush. It was not beyond the cellist’s eyes that they were doing so not only in tandem and in sync with one another, but also the tune as well. For every hoof beat Octavia made to match the beat, they made a stomp. With each pull of her bow, they scraped against the bottom of the barrel, and with each quick pluck of Fiddle’s Bow, they continued to move.

June-Bug was not far behind, twisting dials and measuring readings across the barn that Octavia couldn’t follow, not when the music was flowing through her. For the lithe mare, however, it appeared to be just what she needed. While near every other pony had been dancing to the tune, Octavia watched through the music as June jumped around.

Like a cricket on a caffeine high, she jumped from dial to buzzer, flipping switches and controlling gyros that Octavia only passively noted. She was more focused on the bright mare, smiling like the sun in the barn, lighting up the world as the music continued to flow. Every time she landed, Octavia’s hoof beat on the porch. Every quick chord Fiddle played, June-Bug adjusted a dial. She was dancing in her own way, having fun in another way, but alive altogether.

But then Octavia saw a mare she almost didn’t recognize, one that was one of the many ponies she had been introduced to. She was her match in height, Fiddle’s match for accessories, but coated orange and with a bright yellow mane. A trio of apples was shining on her haunches, signifying her place in the Apple Family.

Octavia, didn’t recognize her, but she could tell the mare was family. It wasn’t that this new mare was on her own farm, bucking her own trees for her own apples. It wasn’t that she was dancing to the same tune Octavia played, though in a location the alicorn didn’t recognize. It was honestly so much simpler than that.

She, Octavia, just knew. They were connected, all of them were.

They didn’t need sight or sound to know they were close, no letters in the mail or word-of-mouth messages, those were just crutches. Octavia realized that now, realized what it meant to be working as a member of this massive family, why Fiddle had her try her luck at the trade in the orchard, and why distance was only petty annoyance.

They were family, and family meant always being near, and always knowing where they are.

Octavia quickened the pace of her strings, dropping her bow on the neck of the cello, raising the pitch at which it played. Fiddle followed suit, bending over on her hind legs, dipping as if to grab something from the floor. Both played at the quickened pace, both pushing and leading the other.

Then with a few select chords, they whipped their bows of the respective necks, ending the song.

Octavia finally opened her eyes

END

The last time she had played like that, she and Vinyl had created what the unicorn had recounted as living electricity, dancing to the beat of their strings and speakers, electrified by their performance.

With the princess, Octavia remembered the star-like lights that sparkled around the room when they finished. She suspected they had been orbiting the pair as they played, marking them as something cosmic-like.

In the fields of Fiddle’s family orchard, nothing apparent had appeared. There were no notes floating in the air, no apples dancing on the ground, no shadows dissipating into mist, nothing that was extraordinary. But then again, there was nothing left that was ordinary.

It was not that something had appeared as it had the last few times, for there was nothing. Rather, it was that the orchard had changed. It wasn’t the trees, the grass, the barn, or even the sky. What changed was wholly bigger than that.

It was everything.

The trees were glowing with a light that seemed to emanate energy, to be feeding the apples that hung from their branches with a nectar that would make them all the more insatiable. They glowed, they shined, and they illuminated the orchard entire. The apples that dangled from the trees were, however, all the brighter.

If the trees were a bright sky in a sunny day, then the apples were the stars, peeking beyond the fold of the sun to look upon the orchard. Each was an almost blinding beacon, beaconing with promise. And it was easy to tell how great the apples were. After all, their fragrance swept through the air.

Octavia took in a lungful of the air. She tasted the sweet nectar of the apples, doubled by what she guessed was the music she had conjured with Fiddlesticks. She pushed out her chest, taking in as much as she could breathe in. It felt heavenly, blessed even. Though silence was on the wind with their music gone, the air still felt alive.

She stopped her musings only when she felt a hoof on her shoulder. Turning, Octavia was unsurprised to see Fiddle staring back at her, a confident smile on her features. Only… the smile was more than merely confident now.

There was an inviting nature to it, an inclusiveness, one that her double’s eyes said Octavia was now apart of. It was the same look Vinyl had given her when they had reconciled their first spite, and an eerily similar expression to that of Princesses Luna following their flight lessons. Octavia decided that she enjoyed that look. It made her feel welcome.

“That,” Fiddlesticks spoke to Octavia with a proud smile. “Was one impressive show.”

Octavia smiled back, truly thankful to hear the words.

Author's Note

Sorry to say no question this time. Next chapter has a little of the usual, but then brings in the next, and likely final, arc of the story. I'd say three or four chapters for that story, meaning 2-3 questions to go with it, then just one grand finale with a possible epilogue.

The last question though... that's gonna be a REAL story changer, like voting for victims in Game of Thrones... I guess a more appropriate example would be Survivor... yeah, that.

Anywho, Merry Belated Christmas and Happy New Coming Year!

The Bridge: Part 1

“Does she have ta go?” It was a question spoken as a whine, a noise Octavia had heard commonly all morning. But despite it being often attributed to aggravation, the alicorn found the sound rather enduring -- cute, even. It did help that the decidedly cutest foal in Fillydelphia was the one complaining.

“Sure as a harvest in fall she’s gotta go,” Fiddlesticks responded, rubbing her hoof into her younger sibling’s mane. Candy attempted to bat the hoof away futilely. “She’s got places ta be and ponies ta meet. Can’t keep the wagon on the farm all the time, can we?”

“I am thankful to hear I am like a wagon to you, Fiddle,” Octavia spoke up to the mare, smirking at the red flush spreading over the other mare’s yellow coat. She mused on whether or not she looked that way when she was embarrassed. Aside from the adjusting of the Stetson hat, Octavia had to assume so.

“Yeah, well… Ah don’t like it,” Candy replied again, staring at the ground in a huff. “Who’s gonna help me make more cinnamon candy apples?”

“Yer brother, Ah reckin’,” Fiddlesticks replied again, recovering from the embarrassment and regaining her authorative tone. “Same way yer gonna help make his sugar sweet caramel apples!”

Octavia smiled at the pair, lightly pushing the brim of her own tall hat upwards. It annoyed her that she had to don the heavy and otherwise cumbersome accessory, equally so as the jacket over her back. But, as accepting to her as the Apple Family had been for the past few days, she could not very well walk onto the train home with wings flared and horn waving.

She gazed behind her, seeing the steam of the train’s coal powered engine rising into the air. Only a few sparce ponies littered the track around them. The departure time was too inconvenient for most ponies, too late in the day and just before another busy weekday. Octavia was sure she would enjoy the solitude of the train’s interior.

“We are gonna miss you, ya know that.” Octavia turned her head to see Tart standing beside her, closer to her than his own siblings. The alicorn nodded to his words in agreement.

“I know, and I will miss you all as well.” She spoke only honestly, no exaggerations or myths to her. “I will be remiss to say that I did not enjoy myself, even though I had slept longer and deeper than I have in a long while whilst in your care.”

“Workin’ the fields tends ta tucker out the limbs,” Tart agreed, wagging his own foreleg. If he was trying to show it to be limp, he did a poor job. That was mostly the fault of the years of apple bucking showing in his legs. It was difficult to make a muscular limb appear weak. Still, he settled his leg back on the platform before he spoke again. “Gotta say though, worked was a lot smoother the past few days with yer tunes swimmin’ in the air. Ain’t gonna be the same with just Fiddlesticks carryin’ on.”

“Oh hush,” Octavia replied with a roll of her head. She patted the stallion’s shoulders lightly. He didn’t move an inch. “Your sister could play all the musical pieces of the symphony and still have the energy to make dinner for every twig and leaf in your family. I believe you are all set.” Tart gave the mare a half-drawn smirk, pulling at one of his cheeks.

The effect was lost when the bandana over his head fell down, blocking the rest of his vision. He let out a sound of discomfort and settled on the ground to readjust the cloth over his mane. Octavia turned to eye the perpetrator, having no surprise when she came eye to eye with Fiddlesticks.

“’Preciate the praise, Octy, but he’s at least half-right.” Octavia was still not keen on the idea of the nickname Vinyl had conjured being used by other ponies. But then again, she couldn’t help but feel a sort of comfort that came with the more personal name. “Well as Ah play, don’t think Ah’m ever gonna play as well alone as we did tagether.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s true,” Octavia agreed. “Two heads tend to be better than one.”

“More like two bows,” Fiddle corrected, smirking as she did. Octavia let her own, more-controlled smile match her doppelganger’s. The two shared a silent conversation, eyes looking at one another. Fiddle’s smile sobered slowly as the time passed, until she at least appeared to be further mirroring Octavia.

“We are gonna miss ya, though,” Fiddlesticks eventually spoke again. She reached to her side, pulling her little sister in close. Candy fell into the embrace with only a few complaints. She reached with her other hoof, pulling Tart to her other side. The stallion had a much easier time keeping his balance. “We all are.”

“And I will miss you all as well.” Octavia spoke earnestly, allowing her emotions to show on her sleeve for once. She extended her foreleg, intending to give Fiddlesticks one last hoofshake before her departure. She was sure the mare wouldn’t be able to lift her this time -- at least hopefully, not. The alicorn was half correct.

Instead of a shake, the mare grabbed Octavia’s leg, pulling on it with the same strength near every member of her family had. Octavia was only able to let out a small gasp before she felt herself enveloped in the mare’s legs, a strong hug embracing her. Her head was stuck over Fiddle’s shoulder, looking down the mare’s back and over her blue vest. It took only a short time for Octavia to wrap her own legs about the mare.

It was to no surprise when Octavia felt Candy’s smaller set of hooves wrap around the pair. Tart’s sudden embrace about the pair, large enough to wrap them together, was slightly more surprising. Octavia had no complaints.

“Ya take care now,” Fiddlesticks spoke into Octavia’s ear. “An’ make sure ya visit sometime. Candy won’t forgive ya if ya don’t.”

“Yeah! Come back soon!” The youngest of the trio chorused her sister, much to the elder’s amusement. Slowly the embrace broke, leaving Octavia staring at the trio of siblings, their many relatives all back at the farm; working today as they had nearly every day before. It really never did end for them. Octavia now understood that it was not just a good thing, but a great thing.

“Next destination, Canterlot for 6:00, three minutes to departure. Repeat, Canterlot for 6:00, three minutes to departure,” the announcer spoke from above. It felt like an early alarm clock on a weekend. Hesitantly, the mare picked up the case for her cello, lifting it until the black shape was supported by the wheels beneath it.

“I will see you all before long, I promise you that.” Octavia made sure to give Candy the most earnest smile she could conjure. The filly matched hers easily, smiling back up at her brightly. The alicorn spent no more time.

Turning tail, she stepped onto the platform for the train and lifted the awkward case for her cello with her. With much less hassle than when she had first arrived, Octavia boarded the train and passed the conductor her ticket from a pocket of her coat. With a tip of his hat, the stallion bade her own. The alicorn went inside with haste.

Once she was inside, she pushed her cello case to the chair in front of her, grabbing the seat next to the window. It took her little time to see the family outside looking back at her. Octavia nodded to them, smiling happily.

She saw Candy’s mouth moving, likely asking for her to come back soon. The roll of Fiddlesticks eyes made it all the more apparent. It made Octavia giggle, daintily holding her hoof to her lips so as to keep the action from being seen. It was a poor effort on her part and she knew it.

And then she was off again.

With a lurch, the train began to chug forwards, departing the station and separating the disguised alicorn from the Apple family. The gray mare waved gingerly through the window, smiling fondly at Fiddlesticks and her family. Her twin grinning with a wry smile as she waved back.

Candy Apple was jumping on her rear hooves to wave goodbye, swinging her forelegs as if Octavia was already leagues away and not just a few meters. Octavia never tired of the filly’s seemingly endless supply of energy.

Tart stood just beside her, nodding his head and grinning. Three days and Octavia still knew about as much of him as she did the odd pony at her symphonies. Still, she could not forget the heart behind his kindness, nor the sincerity in the words he spoke to her.

Too soon for comfort, the train left the station behind completely, putting more and more distance between Octavia and the family. They were already far out of sight, but the mare knew it would be quite some time before they were out of mind.

With a sigh, the alicorn leaned back against her seat, shutting her eyes as in preparation herself for the hours of solitude ahead. The small vibrations of the train kept lulling her, like the rocking of a baby’s crib. Octavia would never admit the analogy aloud.

She rolled her head to the side, looking out the window at the passing countryside. They were far and gone outside the city limits by now, already traversing the open country of Equestria. Octavia would have liked to be in the mountains or forests, seeing the behemoth of natural structures towering over her. Instead, they were in an open field with nothing but the odd hill and tree. The plains were fairly plain indeed, she reflected.

She sighed, turning head back around to gaze at her cello. It sat on the seat across from her, still as a rock. She was honestly going to miss playing with Fiddlesticks. Her doppelganger was far more active with the violin than any member of the Symphony, willing to dance with the instrument like a partner. It likely had to do with the reason she was so skilled.

Octavia slid her eyes closed, letting the rumble of the train car carry her home. There was nopony in the carriage with her -- not that unusual given it was the day before the weekend. If anything it at least meant that she was going to enjoy a peaceful sleep the whole trip back. That was a pleasant thought in her mind.

“Pardon me, but is this seat taken?” The thought was quickly dashed with the words.

Octavia turned head and parted her lids to see a stallion standing by her seat. She hadn’t heard him approach, not until he had spoken up. But then again, she was halfway to sleeping.

He was considerably older than her, that much she was immediately aware of. A unicorn with a brown coat, he had a gray mane with striped white and with a fair goatee to match. He wore the top of a nice suit, fitted with a green bowtie about his neck. His smile was calm, relaxed, as if he was looking for a place to pass the time as well.

“No,” she answered honestly, looking at the cello in the opposite pair of seats. “No, you can sit if you like.” The stallion nodded to her.

“Wonderful. Thank you very much,” he spoke, courtesy easily falling upon his words. Octavia smiled in return. He took the seat next to her, taking little time in leaning back into the cushioned chair. He flexed his neck, adjusting himself against the material.

Octavia turned away from him, looking back out the window. The plains were still as expansive as ever, dotted with the odd house or landmark to show the land was far from unexplored. A few bushels of trees or eroded ditch skimmed by, but nothing so near as vast or interesting as the mountains or forests for which she pined. She sighed, content to again try to sleep the trip away. The stallion next to her, however, decided to speak again.

“Are you returning or visiting?” The question was spoken with nearly zero context. Octavia turned her head, adjusting the hat atop her head to keep it from falling. Though she quirked her eyes and stared at the stallion, he did not elaborate upon his question. It appeared she had to speak questions to get answers.

“I beg your pardon?” She questioned. Now the stallion would be compelled to ask again, hopefully in more detail.

“I’m curious if you are returning to Canterlot or merely visiting,” he clarified, motioning his hoof towards the front of the train, presumably towards Canterlot. “I myself am just visiting. Have some small business to attend to before returning home.” Ah, small talk.

Octavia was hoping to sleep at least a dozen or so winks on the trip home, but it would be beyond rude of her to end a conversation of the sake of sleep, at least during midday. Suppressing a sigh, she answered the stallion.

“Retuning. I was meeting a friend of a friend in Fillydelphia.” The stallion opened his mouth, nodding his head, presumably to let out a low ‘ah’ of understanding. Though no words came from his mouth until he spoke again.

“I assume this friend is a musician such as yourself?” He motioned towards the cello nearby. It wasn’t an altogether unreasonable assumption on his part.

“Yes, actually. I was hoping to practice a duet with her. A violin with a cello,” Octavia smiled softly as she answered. The stallion shut his eyes briefly, for just a moment longer than a blink. Octavia could only presume he was imagining the sound of it. If that was the case, then he was quickly earning his way onto her good side.

“That does sound lovely, although a bit unexpected.” Octavia felt one of her brows rise up at statement. The stallion clarified himself quickly. “Apologies. I simply meant there are many talented violinists and other musicians in Canterlot. Why make the trip to Fillydelphia?” A sensible question, but Octavia was sure she had already answered it.

“As I said, visiting the friend of a friend. I couldn’t very well meet her without leaving to see her.” The stallion made the same motion as he had before, imitating an ‘ah’ expression.

“Very true, very true. You can’t discover what is different without leaving what is normal, can you?” Octavia, further intrigued, rose her brow a bit higher still. She heard a bell go off somewhere in her mind, but she ignored it. The question reminded her of philosophy class in Canterlot University, which she had attended between studying sonatas and symphony practice. Instead of answering, she decided to answer his question with one of her own as respectfully as she could.

“I apologize, but would you happen to be a professor of some sort?” She motioned with her hoof as she spoke, taking care to not move her jacket too much. It wouldn’t be hard for a pony this close to spot the jacket moving by itself, as would be the fault of her wings. “I mean to say, that question is not what I would expect out of a normal conversation.”

“It isn’t, is it?” The stallion pulled a smile across his lips, presumably trying to stifle a chuckle of his own. “Ah, please forgive me. I simply get swept up in asking what usually is considered abnormal.” A whistle joined the bell in her head. Octavia could take that to mean she was correct in her assumption, or he was an investigator of some kind.

The former was just fine. The latter was greatly unnerving. Panic started to creep into her mind.

An investigator was trained to see tells, small signs that something was being lied about. He was old -- at least, older than most ponies -- so that meant he was likely not only trained, but skilled as well. Those were not two good things to be put together next to a pony with something to hide, let alone an alicorn.

“Is something the matter?” He asked again, smile still present. “You appear to be sweating a little?” Was she? Octavia wasn’t aware until she lifted one of her legs to her hide, pulling it away to find a damp spot on the sleeve of her jacket.

“I-it’s nothing.” The alicorn desperately tried to hide. “Just a bit warm is all.”

“Then wouldn’t it be beneficial to remove the jacket? Or maybe just the hat?” Octavia could feel her stomach plummeting through the floor. This was bad. This was very bad. It was bad and it was only getting worse. She had to control herself, quickly!

“I-I’m sorry,” she apologized, attempting to look meek. It wasn’t a hard effort. “I am simply… self-conscious about myself at the moment. Too many sweets recently.” This was a gamble, a hard one, but one she had heard many times before. After all, no proper stallion would ask a mare about her size, let alone to show herself to him.

Judging by the blinking of the stallion’s gaze, she appeared to have scored close to home.

“Oh I understand that,” he replied with a smile. He leaned in closer to Octavia, and the alicorn had to keep herself from bending back as he approached. In a whisper, he spoke on to her. “I’ll confess, I’m wearing the jacket to hide a bit of extra flab myself. Tends to build up as you get older.” Octavia held her sigh in place.

“Yes, though you may do well to think before asking a mare about her size in the future.” She was playing double or nothing, but she had to go all in on this bet.

“Of course. You won’t hear a word more about it from me.” The stallion smiled slightly as he nodded towards her, appearing every bit as respectful as before. Octavia was more than a little thankful, but that didn’t mean she could relax just yet. “But now I am still curious about something else, if I may ask.” Octavia thought about stopping him, but relented faster than she expected. He was being kind to her, not forceful in any obvious way. It would be rude to simply bat him away for asking nondescript questions.

“You may, so long as it pertains to less about my figure.” He chuckled softly at that, a relieving sign for her part. It appeared that she could relax a little more.

“It’s just your instrument, the cello.” He pointed towards her case again, still leaning on the chair as the scenery rolled by the window. “I don’t often hear an instrument like that, but when I do, it’s almost always in the company of other strings or brass instruments.”

“It creates the best harmony,” Octavia lightly defended, not intending to sound forceful. The stallion didn’t appear to take her words as such either.

“Believe me, I know. I was simply curious if you had tried to play it with something new. A guitar maybe, perhaps a set of drums? Maybe you could really surprise some ponies and attempt to play it with that modern electronic music.” It was only by sheer force of will that Octavia kept her hoof from slamming into her forehead.

“I… have attempted that before,” she honestly confessed, not intent to lie to a stallion that she was so sure was keen on spotting the smaller details now. “I will admit as well that I was surprised by the quality of the music produced. But the classics are far and gone my preferred form of playing.” The stallion appeared satisfied with her response.

“Well, now I’m interested to hear how it sounded,” he spoke, placing a hoof on the edge of his goatee. “Something entirely different from what usually is. Something outside of what is normal or acceptable. Something… disorderly even.”

Every bell and whistle that Octavia had ignored before were now blaring in her head.

“I’m sorry,” Octavia began carefully, fully preparing an octobass chord in her mind. If he was going to say something off, she was going to use some form of magic to leave… somehow. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“My name?” the stallion asked, placing a hoof on his collared chest. He started to snicker -- quietly at first, but the pitch only deepened as the sound rolled on. The grin that was hanging off his face was now splitting it. Octavia felt her eyes widen in panic.

“Dear Octavia, I’m what you ponies would call abnormal. An anomaly, weird, maybe even just a little… chaotic.”

As he spoke, the stallion began to change. Though Octavia was already approaching the line of fright, the sight before her launched her leagues over it. The stallion blinked, and in that millisecond of time his white sclera and gray pupils turned to yellow eyes with red pupils. That was horrifying enough, but it wasn’t nearly the end.

His smile continued to grow, grow not only to match the mirth he felt, but to match the teeth in his jaws. His teeth were growing, both in size and in shape. One canine appeared to jump in growth far more than the rest, jutting outwards and hanging over his bottom lip like an imposing fang. Octavia stopped noticing it only when she saw how his face had grown… long. Long like it was being pulled out with force. He still kept smiling, though.

“You may remember me. There was a lot of hullabaloo about me coming around a little while ago. Put quite the damper on the curtain of normalcy.”

Octavia was watching him all the while he spoke, and she was starting to crane her neck so she could keep doing so. It wasn’t just his face that was changing; it was his entire body. He was growing elongate like a snake, now towering over the frightened mare. Octavia felt something on her head. It took her a moment to realize that it was a lion’s paw. Specifically, a paw that was connected to the now-scaled body of the once-stallion.

“If it helps, most ponies refer to me as-”

“Discord!”

Octavia shouted the name, shouted it like she was waking from a bad dream. She honestly wished she was. Unfortunately, the volume of her cry did nothing. She opted to try again, hoping perhaps somepony would come help.

“Discord! Discord! Discord! Dis-” He put his opposite claw on her lips. Octavia grimaced at the touch.

“Even my name gets old if you say it too much, so please don’t wear it out.” He chuckled at his statement. Octavia felt a ball grow in her throat. “Oh, please. Relax, I just wanted to surprise you a little. Normal meetings are just so dull that it almost hurts to suffer through them.”

As if to emphasize his point, the revealed draconequus stiffened like a board, his face suggesting he was struck by some invisible blow. Then, like an unbalanced twig in the wind, he fell over. As soon as he hit the floor of the cabin, a tulip bloomed from his clasped paw and claw, just over his chest. Octavia was unsure if she should scream out of fear for herself or for him.

“But enough of that,” With a bang, Discord was gone.

Octavia waved her head left and right, madly looking for the draconequus. She saw nothing, no pony, only herself and her cello. The cabin was empty save for her. Her breathing echoed in her ears, rapid and growing in pace.

“What I want to know about is this thing.” Octavia heard the voice, but couldn’t see the speaker. That was when she felt something push against her horn, still hidden away in the tall hat on her head. Octavia lifted the accessory up and over the sharp appendage on her skull.

A miniature Discord was sitting on the end of her horn, poking it like a sore bruise.

“It looks so new. Freshly made even,” the small figure spoke so easily that Octavia was sure she must have been dreaming. Every poke he pushed against her, however, said otherwise. “Did you get a good deal on it?"

With a shriek, Octavia lifted her hoof, attempting to bat him away. But with another bang of light, he was gone.

“And this jacket is so heavy.” Octavia felt the voice behind her, but when she turned, she saw nothing. “I applaud you for trying to be different, but there isn’t much sense in acting different to hide a difference. Maybe that’s not so bad after all.”

The alicorn pulled the jacket from her back, realizing with a sudden chime in her head where he was. She tossed the jacket to the floor of the alley, settling herself onto all fours with wings expanded.

Sure enough, a crooked smile and mismatched gaze were plastered on the back of her jacket.

“But you, Octavia, you really are the greatest surprise I’ve had in a while.” Her jacket disappeared with another bang and flash, replaced by the draconequus looming over her, crooked smile and gaze fixed on her. “And that’s never a bad thing. Why, in fact, I’d say-” He didn’t get a word further.

Octavia slammed a chair into his side.

“Owf!” The draconequus let out as the armchair rammed into him. His twisted expression contorted into one of surprise and pain. Octavia did her best to not notice the look of pleasure on his face. She at least hoped it wasn’t because of the pain. “That… was quite unexpected. I don’t suppose you plan to-”

Octavia slammed the chair into him again. Then again. Then again.

She shouted at him. “What!” Slam! “Are!” Slam! “You!” Slam! “Doing!” Slam!

Every word she screamed sent the chair against the draconequus, pounding him deeper and deeper into the cabin floor. A chorus of angry trumpets, blaring louder and louder with every hit, accompanied each slam. It occurred to Octavia that she might be risking puncturing the bottom of the train, but she disregarded it. It was worth it.

When she lifted the chair up again, she held it above Discord, watching the crushed draconequus carefully. Her breathing was labored, but her mind was clearer after she had vented her anger. Ordinarily, had Octavia snapped and slammed a pony with a chair like she just had, she might have been debating about taking refuge in Fillydelphia or The Crystal empire. Instead, given the immortality of the mad god, she had only the thought that she might not have gone far enough.

Discord was crushed in a heap on the metal floor. His long, slytherin body was curled like a knot, mismatched limbs bent against one another in a way that looked absolutely painful. His eyes were looking in different directions, and one of them appearing to have slipped further down his face. Even his tooth appeared to have spun around, facing up instead of down.

But he was still smiling.

“Well, that was quite the introduction!” Another bang and flash blinded the cabin. Once Octavia could see again, she noticed Discord standing upright, indent in the floor gone and draconequus appearing to be his miss-matched self again. His claw brushed against his long body, pushing off a few spare particles of dust and splinters. “I must say, it’s been some time since anypony has assaulted me like that. Really spices up the getting-to-know-you bit.”

“I can continue if you like,” Octavia felt herself snarling, chair held in her magical grasp still, the trumpet in her head playing a low C in preparation. Discord, however, only chuckled as he waved his paw towards her, dismissing the idea as if it were an offer for a beverage.

“Oh no, that won’t do. Repeat performances are so dull that it almost pains me.” As if to emphasize his point, the draconequus lifted a claw to his long body. Holding over where the alicorn presumed his heart was, wearing a hurt expression all the while. “But no, I did actually come to greet you.” He extended his paw towards her, smiling in the same crooked manner he always did. The thought never occurred to Octavia to accept his greeting.

“And why do you want to meet me? No, wait,” Octavia shook her head, realizing a far more important question that had to be asked. “Why are you meeting me here, disguised as a pony, and trying to scare me?!” Despite the rise in her voice, Discord only chuckled at the hostility.

“Simple. Anywhere else would just be too normal.” Octavia was quickly sensing a pattern with his choices. “Royal Courts, Dining Rooms, and even music studios are just all easily predictable places for ponies to meet one another. So why not a train? I considered popping into your room one night for an introduction, but-”

Octavia didn’t let him finish. She slammed the chair on his head again.

This time, it splintered into pieces.

“OOOOoooooohhhh,” Discord let out a moan, a comical bump growing atop his head. His tall, snake-like body waved left and right, his already mismatched eyes crossing. His crooked smile lulled into a goofy grin. Octavia swore she saw stars circling his head. Then he fell over flat.

The gray alicorn stared at him, feeling her chest and expand and deflate in exasperation. She settled on her haunches with a sigh, feeling a mighty weight lift from her shoulders. She stared at the ground of the cabin, feeling the vibrations of the moving train rumble beneath her. She was at least glad she was still moving.

When she raised her head again, staring at the unconscious draconequus on the cabin floor, Octavia felt her eyes narrow. It had been quite some time since she felt actual anger towards another pony. Not just annoyance or discomfort, but the actual desire to cause them harm. A spare thought told her that that was what Discord wanted, as he did seem to desire what was the most unusual. Playing into his will only aggravated her more.

“So,” she spoke to herself, directing her voice towards the god that couldn’t hear her. “What am I going to do with you?”

“He said what?” Octavia wasn’t sure if she was thankful or worried to see Luna so upset.

“That he wished to surprise me in my room,” the gray alicorn spoke aloud, no embarrassment or nervousness in her voice. A unique combination of time spent with Luna and anger directed at Discord meant there was little Octavia couldn’t say with a straight face, at least regarding that particular draconequus.

The Lunar Princess was standing across from her in the courtroom, eyes wide and wings expanded in shock. Her mouth was parted, slack, as if she forgot how to work the jaw while thinking on the story that Octavia had told her. It was truthfully far from what anypony would reasonably expect of royalty. Then again, as Octavia already noted, Discord’s intervention didn’t tend to be very reasonable.

She was standing in Luna’s court, the dark alicorn having only just taken her post when Octavia arrived. It was not the younger alicorn’s intention to even approach the lunar princess tonight, but the sudden introduction and subsequent assault of the draconequus made the meeting somewhat of a necessity. Most other ponies thought so, as no mare or stallion questioned her when she demanded to be front of the line.

Discord floating above her, held in her own gray magical grasp, was a hard sign to argue.

It was both amazing and perplexing how the supposed god of chaos was able to be knocked out so thoroughly, but then again Octavia supposed he was not expecting her to be so… violent. Careful wishes and all of that. It was only the thought of the princesses delivering a swift hoof of justice that kept her gaze neutral as she walked from the train station all the way to Luna’s court.

Now here she was, finishing her tale of boarding the train and meeting Discord, and observing Luna’s response. Octavia was pleased to see that the princess saw less humor in the notion than she did. It meant Discord was unlikely to walk away without some regret, hopefully.

“This is… oh how I wish I could say this is abnormal for him,” Luna spoke with clear disdain in her voice. Her head dropped, hiding itself beneath her raised hoof. It took little time for Octavia to see the princess massaging one of her dark temples. “Discord has always been a nuisance for ponies. I was hoping he would have learned some form or manner of restraint by now.” Selfish as Octavia felt it was, she was somewhat glad to see Luna in distress. It meant that her own anger from before was justified.

“If I may venture,” the gray alicorn began. “How did he even know where I was? Or even what I was?” The question made Luna raise her gaze to Octavia, her visage of annoyance replaced by a cool mask of contemplation. Her eyes shut partially, just enough to hide her cerulean eyes.

“It would have had to be the fault of one Miss Fluttershy, from Ponyville,” Luna concluded. She did not need to see to know that Octavia was confused. “Discord has been… in the care of the pegasus. She is one of several companions to Princess Twilight, also the previous bearer of the Element of Kindness. My sister supposed it would be a generous idea to offer Discord a chance to reform himself, with regards to his previous… exploits.” She didn’t need to elaborate. The memory of Canterlot Castle upside, the moon shining like the sun, buffalos doing the can-can, and chocolate raining cotton candy clouds was a difficult thing to forget, especially without therapy.

“It took a significant period of time, but Fluttershy was able to convince Discord to reform himself to the beneficial ways of harmony, rather than meaningless chaos.” She ended her short explanation with a sigh, clearly still troubled. “That has not kept him from being the sole cause of many random and often pointless exercises through the kingdom.”

“Oh Luna, are you still sore over the shampoo?”

Octavia’s and Luna’s collective attention both whirled to Discord. He was still caught in the gray alicorn’s equally ashen aura, but now he was lying belly down, swinging his rear legs and tail as if preparing to gossip. He even held his long head with his paw and claw. Literally; it was detached from the rest of his body.

“I do apologize if it is a sore memory. I honestly thought you would look rather stunning with short hair.” Octavia glanced to Luna, curious of how the Lunar Princess would respond. She safely concluded that the feral look of rage across her dark features promised nothing for the ears of a foal. “Oh alright, so it was curly too, but I thought the clown hair was really dashing on you!”

“As dashing as you would look running from me and my guard, Discord!” At her words, be they commands or not, the lunar guards about the room prepared themselves, ready for action at command. Octavia was impressed by their synchronicity. She was less impressed by her close proximity to said draconequus. It didn’t help that he was laughing.

“Now that is a fun thought, but your sister and I have had that dance too many times before. I’m afraid a change in actors won’t do much to the plot.” Octavia felt her face redden as he pointed towards her rear end. Luna’s flank...

She didn’t hesitate to slam him to the floor, tuba blasting in her head to strengthen her magic.

The resounding crack echoed about the courtroom, ringing in Octavia’s hears. It was a satisfying sound. Octavia glowered at Discord, her head hunched and mane hanging ominously over half of her face, parted by the long horn on her head. Discord, mismatched eyes further skewed by the blow, looked up at her with a twisted smile, complete with what appeared to be a few crooked and missing teeth.

“You never cease to startle me, Octavia,” He complimented her, much to the cellist’s further disdain. “But if I must be honest, your preference for violence is becoming rather obvious, and quickly at that. At least Fluttershy is creative with her punishments.” He shivered at the statement, an action that made his whole body contort. In a flash of white and bang later, he was standing tall above her, towering as ever, eyes and teeth fixed as much as they could be.

“Enough, Discord,” Luna spoke up, attempting to place herself between the two. Octavia and Discord both turned to see her trotting towards the pair, wings extended to their fullest to make her already powerful form appear dwarfing. It had a great effect on Octavia, who never failed to be humbled by the princess’s presence. Discord, however, appeared only slightly amused, either out of greed for surprise or simply used to the acts of the Solar Sisters.

“Should I expect myself to be thrown from the balcony this time?” Discord asked, an odd amount of curiosity in his voice, though with him it was hard to tell. “Or perhaps I should plan on being chased again. Your little night-guard can see surprisingly well at night.”

“You should expect,” Luna began… before letting her voice fall off. A short silence hung between them, surrounded by the attentive and alert guards. Octavia watched as an amused smile crept up Luna’s lips. “To join Octavia and I in my private chambers.”

Octavia felt her jaw fall. She saw Discord’s grin rise, literally, past his eyes and horns.

“Really?” He questioned out of genuine wonder. Octavia had the same question, but her shock forbade the use of words.

“Truly, but do not misunderstand my intent,” Luna explained, her confident smile becoming more subdued as she spoke on. “I know well enough that your intent is beyond simple annoyance for either Octavia or I, but I also know you will not betray the trust of Fluttershy thrice.” Octavia didn’t miss the wince hit Discord’s crooked smile. “So, any intent you have or explanations you intend to give can be done so outside the public eye. Octavia has already risked enough with your presence alone.”

It wasn’t until the princess said it that Octavia realized what she meant. Her coat and hat were just beside her, quickly discarded upon her entry, but for the first time in a while, her appearance in public was not at the forefront of her mind. She didn’t know if she should be further angered or begrudgingly grateful to the Mad God.

“Oh dear,” Discord began, faux concern laced in his voice. “I wasn’t aware that my very presence made ponies act differently.” The draconequus chuckled with mirth into his paw. Octavia debated slamming him into the floor again, but decided against it. The floor was already cracked enough.

“Do you wish to join us?” Luna asked again, ignoring the baiting words of Discord. “I will have to ask you to leave otherwise. But wait.” The Lunar Princess held up her hoof before the draconequus could respond, his mouth already moving to speak. She moved her attention to the younger alicorn, offering Octavia a kind smile before she spoke.

“I apologize that I did not consider you in the arrangement, Octavia. If you do choose to stay, would you permit Discord to join us? Believe me, I would be more than happy to remove him otherwise.” The rather subtly dark grin on the equally dark alicorn gave the cellist room to pause. Her eyes shifted to Discord, looking down at her with his towering height. Instead of the crooked smile and gleeful gleam to his eyes, he had adopted a more pitiful look completed with high-pitched whine.

His mismatched red eyes were far larger than before, shining with a soft curtain of unshed tears. They appeared to far larger than any stomach he may have possessed, though because Octavia wasn’t about to assume biology about the mad god. Discord even had his paw and claw knitted together in a pitiful display. It would have been cute if the claws and furred digits of the paws were not literally stitched together. It made the image far more morbid.

Still though, Octavia was far to brush away any pony, or draconequus it seemed, simply because of a poor first meeting. Accounting for Luna’s words and actions, she had more than enough reason to wish for Discord to be banished from the meeting, and all future events as well if it were possible. But, he visited Octavia for a reason. Perhaps he had something to contribute to the mystery that still plagued them. Octavia was not about to burn a bridge she was still currently crossing.

“He may join us,” Octavia finally spoke, watching as the unshed tears in Discord’s eyes turned to sparkling diamonds, falling from his eyes and shattering across the floor. “But you must keep your tangents to a minimum, as most of the words that come from you appear to be as twisted as your appearance. Is that clear?” Though insulting as she intended her words to be, Octavia did not expect Discord to keep his look of joy.

“Insults and invitations?” He questioned either curiously or jovially, likely a mixture of both. “Oh, if only the princesses were as bold and brash as you.” He wore a crooked smile as he leaned over the gray alicorn, the gold of eyes his gleaming with delight. Octavia waited for him to speak on, but instead of words the draconequus chose action.

He reached up with his claw, grabbing at the edge of his mouth, pinching the fur on his long face. Then, with comical proportions, he pulled the edge of his lip down. While Octavia was about to make a wince at the movement, not favoring the sight of a pony hurt his or herself. But instead of the usual pull and likely rip of coat hair, Discord did what he did best, the unexpected.

A zipper appeared from the edge of his claw, pulling and connecting itself across his lips in line with his appendage. In no time at all, he had reached the other side of his crooked smile, completing sealing his mouth shut.

It was a welcome sight to both Octavia and Luna.

“Highly acceptable,” Luna commented, nodding towards the draconequus. Discord flashed his mismatched eyes at the dark alicorn, blinking them as if flirting. It was enough to turn the Lunar Princesses accepting grin into a frown once more. “Though lacking in some areas.” Octavia found herself grinning at that.

“It satisfies the agreement, just to the minimum,” the cellist nodded. It earned an affirmative nod from Luna, as well as an undisguisable glint from the tall draconequus’s gaze. She hoped it wasn’t sinister. If Luna was correct in her assessment of the mad god’s character, she needn’t worry. Although that didn’t stop her.

“Now, before we continue,” Luna began before she turned to her lunar guard. They had relaxed in their pose from before, relaxed in that they didn’t have weapons drawn or magic trained. She addressed the stallion closest to her, wings now drawn to her sides. “Apologize to those waiting outside, but the court will be postponed for an undetermined amount of time. Offer any who wish to stay food and drink.” The stallion bowed deeply and quickly before trotting off without a word.

“Luna,” Octavia spoke to the princess, earning the dark alicorn’s attention. Unlike their first few interactions, the cellist felt little to no need to be on the tips of her hooves. “Are you sure they will understand?” It was a similar question every time she came, and every time the princess returned with a similar answer.

“So long as they understand that for any matter I attend to, I do so out of need, not spite. They it will be alright.” A bit more forceful than the usual ‘don’t worry’, but Octavia understood the point well. “But before we speak further, let us-”

A flash. A bang. Then poof, they were gone.

Author's Note

There is a second part to this, as the title should easily indicate. It was divided to make it easier on my editors, as the total length of this chapter was 18,000 words, pre-editing. So... the next half should come up either sometime this week or next. So... I apologize for the blatant cliff-hanger.

But if it helps, I ask a DOOZY of a question next chapter, for you to poll of course.

The Bridge: Part 2

Another flash. Another Bang. Then, poof, all three were in Luna’s Chambers.

“Go to… my… private…” Luna’s head fell downwards. It took Octavia a moment to realize that it was not out of shock or sorrow, but exasperation. Octavia herself, was in shock.

They had been there, in the court, surrounded by armed guards, at least two dozen stained glass windows, and a slightly damaged stone floor. Now they were in a darkly decorated bedroom, complete with dark blue paint, drapes, sheets, and pillows periodically dotted with stars. The room wasn't entirely shadowed, however: the drapes were pulled and the window pane was bare, allowing the still freshly raised moon to shine brightly into the room. Octavia’s mouth worked uselessly.

“Wha… huh… oahh...” While the first few jumbles of sound could be interpreted as half-spoken, single word questions, the last was far closer to a groan than a grunt. Octavia felt her hooves grow weak, her mind disoriented and her eyes dilating. Her stomach felt light. That wasn't a good thing.

“Oh, stars. Octavia,” she heard Luna say from beside her. Any more was either unspoken or unheard. The cellist felt her ears flatten across her head, one ducking behind her long mane. Another groan worked to push itself from her throat, but she swallowed it. It felt more solid than she expected air to be. Bad taste, too.

She felt a wing on her back, too soft and long to be a hoof. It guided her, gently leading her forward. Her legs only barely held her up, but she walked forward out of her trust in Luna. It had to be Luna, for Discord’s wings were too small. Then she felt the weight of the wing grow, and she relented to the force. She felt her stomach land on a pillow-- gently, at that. It felt wonderful, good enough for her ears to relax and groan to push forward from her lips.

“First time using teleportation as a means to travel,” Luna spoke from above her, the diarch’s voice more analytical than explanatory. “It will take a moment, but the uneasiness will pass. Just let your mind right itself. Now, you!” The princess’s voice took a dangerous tone. “Was it too much for you to simply walk with us here? Was it truly necessary for you to use your magic like this?” Octavia heard mumbling--giddy mumbling-- followed by a feminine groan of annoyance. The cellist, dazed as she was, recognized the sound of a zipper soon after, one being violently tugged. She hoped it hurt.

“I do apologize for the nausea, as pain is not a form of chaos I enjoy. I prefer ponies to enjoy my batch of reality, and even I would be wary of a pony that enjoyed pain.” The mirthful chuckle that followed had Octavia groan for an entirely different reason. She swallowed on balls of saliva, hoping to expedite the process. She blinked as well, hoping it would right herself in some way. Odd as it was, it appeared to be working.

“I do not care about what you believe, Discord,” Luna’s wrathful voice rang through the private chambers. “Your thoughts of disharmony and lust for the random has made more faults in our land than benefits. Do not overstep the small sanctuary we have offered you, else you face the wrath of Princess of the Night!”

“Yes, I’m well aware. You’re sister promised the same with the day and all that.” Discord dismissed the threatening words of the princess like a tree does a summer wind. Octavia hoped it was the disorientation that made her see the crooked angle of the draconequus’s lips as a smile. Again, she doubted it. “But you know what, your highness? I believe you would look much better with that frown upside down.”

The mad god snapped his paw. Luna flashed. Octavia panicked, again.

“L-Luna!” She spoke the dark alicorn’s name, no disguise to the panic in her voice. She rose from the pillow she lay on, legs gaining strength quickly with necessity. She made her way to the dark princess, swearing in her mind that if anything was wrong she would hurl the castle at Discord, multiple times. A threatening note started to ring in her mind.

But when Luna turned to Octavia, she didn’t appear any different. Not different by a quick look at least. She had the same dark coat, the same ethereal yet sparkling mane, the same light blue crystal regalia, and even the same wings on her back and horn on her head. Everything was the same.

Except she was sporting a broad smile. A rather… violent… broad smile.

Octavia stared at her, twisting her head to ensure she was not still woozy on her legs. She ignored the cackling of Discord, currently spinning through the air and ignoring gravity like a pest. It was when the gray alicorn took more careful note of the snarled teeth in Luna’s smile, the small canines along the edges, that she noticed what was wrong. They were upside down.

“Oh,” Octavia simply spoke, unsure of what else to say. Luna, upside-down scowl deepening, turned her attention back to the floating mad god.

“Discord,” she seethed out, poorly controlling her rage. “Undo this change of yours, else we shall see your permanent banishment from not only our castle, but the land entire!” The words gave Discord pause, raising his paw to his long chin, stroking the puff of hair that extended from it. His mismatched eyes looked down, in a way a philosophical pony may look up, Octavia noted.

“Oh alright, go ahead and spoil the fun already.” He complained aloud as he snapped his claw. Again, Luna flashed a quick bright light. When it was gone, her lips were righted on her face, deep scowl oriented correctly. The savageness of it still gave Octavia cold shivers down her spine; it was not a pleasant sight. “But now I would like to see what is new with you.” Discord extended his paw towards Octavia, momentarily startling the gray alicorn.

“With me?” She asked, placing a hoof to her chest. Discord nodded affirmatively. “You already know well enough what is new with me. I was rather hoping you could tell me why I am-” Her words were cut off by Discord scoffing like a heckler to a song.

“Those wings and horns of yours are far from new,” Discord cajoled, wearing a face of foolish disgust, tongue lolled out and eyes crossed. “From what I hear, you’ve had those for near a few months now, and I’ve seen plenty of ponies with those before. No no no, what I’m interested in is what you have been doing for the past few days.” Octavia wasn’t confused, but she was cautious.

“I am not aware of your meaning, Discord.” She didn’t hide the disdain in her voice. Were Vinyl here, she might have commented that she was dipping into old habits, sounding snobby and upper class. Octavia preferred poised.

“Aren’t you? You were telling me all about it before.” He noted with a chuckle, earning a groan from the alicorn of his attention. She had forgotten that she had told him, thinking the pony in the train carriage different from the mad god fidgeting above her. “You were visiting the friend of a friend, as you said. Better than just a friend if you ask me.”

“I did not ask you,” Octavia shot back, regretting the words as soon as she spoke them. They sounded like the words of a disgruntled foal. “And I believe I told you as well what I was doing then.”

“Of course, playing a duet,” Discord recalled easily. “But what I am more focused on is what you never answered. Why out there, why so far away from what you are used to here?” He held his paw up to his mismatched eyes, shielding them as if he were looking far across the horizon. Octavia held in a yelp of surprise when he once again pulled his head from his shoulders. “Could it be to keep a sense of privacy, that boring thing ponies are focused on more than breathing? Or could it be-”

“It was to practice my magic.” Octavia interrupted the mad god, wanting now to remove him from the room. She understood more than before the disdain and near-loathing Luna had for the creature. She thought she had an idea before, but that was not even close. “Princess Luna and I have found my… affinity for magic. Music has always been a way for me to relax and control myself, and playing with others… it was a way to stretch the limits of what I can do.”

Her answer brought an undeniable smile to the detached head of Discord.

“That’s wonderful!” He let out, tossing his head into the air like a useless lantern. It hit the ceiling, exploding into ice and then falling back upon his body. It reassembled itself as it fell, completing the copiously compiled creature in but a few moments. “Wanting to try something new. Leaving behind the safe and normal. Oh, Octavia, my only regret is not finding you sooner.”

“Mine is you finding me at all,” Octavia shot back, hoping the barb would stick. It only made the mad god chuckle with mirth. She heard Luna scoff from the side, apparently at her wits end with the creature already.

“But enough of that. I want to see.”

Both Octavia and Luna paused.

“See?” Luna repeated, staring up at Discord with screwed eyes. “For what intent? To harass her further than you already have?” Discord, probably as an act, appeared offended,trading his smile for a scowl and turning his floating body backwards and away from the pair of alicorns. Octavia couldn’t ignore the stray thought of hope that he would blink out of existence. No such luck.

“Give me some credit, moon butt,” Discord insulted the princess twice over with his words, giving Octavia a reason to widen her eyes. “I simply want to see something new. That shouldn’t be unfamiliar to you. Besides that, you never know what I may be able to contribute. After all, what are friends for?” Apparently any sense of offense he had was forgotten with his words, as he was laughing once again. With his question that preceded it, Octavia was on the fence about the implications.

Luna shook her head, probably in disgust, before looking at Octavia. The cellist gazed back, watching the ire in the Lunar Princess’s eyes slowly replace itself with concern. Octavia felt the chill in her wings warm.

“I am against entertaining any form of beast before consideration is given,” Luna spoke, the topic more than obvious to the two of them. “But Discord is a creature that enjoys giving more or less of what you expect, never the same. Though I loathe to admit it, he has been of significant help to my sister and Twilight’s companions in the past. Whether he is humored or not is a decision for you to make. I will support your choice, no matter what it is.” Octavia watched a small smile spread across the dark alicorn’s lips, warm and kind. She felt it to the heart of her soul.

“I think,” Octavia began slowly, literally thinking as she spoke. “That we may entertain him.” She watched as Discord readied himself to perform some other bizarre magical act. Octavia spoke again to stop it. “But!” She continued. “This is only out of courtesy towards what little faith Princess Luna has in you. It is not out of want, only necessity.”

“Calm the eyes!” Discord suddenly shouted, destroying any sense of control Octavia had been projecting. “Your demands are simply too much for me!” Octavia and Luna watched the draconequus begin to melt piece by piece, his mouth stretching to let out a pathetic cry. His solid limbs turning to some discolored liquid, he fell from his floating platform to spill across Luna’s dark floor. Said alicorn only scoffed in annoyance.

“Let us prepare,” she dismissively spoke of the creature. “He will right himself when he needs to.” The last few words were directed at the puddle of colors that was Discord. Octavia fully understood their meaning. “I am well aware that your cello is not present with you, but if you would not mind a compromise… I still have the other one here.” Octavia realized guiltily that she had almost forgotten about it.

With a flash of her horn, Luna removed what Octavia only passively supposed was an illusion spell-- maybe invisibility meant to keep the room looking proper. Upon its removal, two instruments flashed into existence. A cello and piano, both instruments familiar to the young alicorn.

The former was her gift from Luna, dark in color and decorated with the pattern of a starry night. Strings that glowed like the trail of falling stars and a bow that looked as if was carved from the moon itself completed the unmistakable beauty the sight of the instrument provided. The piano was little different, though far larger and likely more delicate in its creation. The lid was popped open and showing the many strings within, and the delicate keys of ivory stood in strong contract to the cool black shine of the rest of the device. The large instrument was a sight to behold, as it so often was. Imposing in shape and size, it still held the grace of the night, doubtlessly the point of its creation.

“This is it?” The pair of princesses turned to see Discord, already his cacophony-like self, standing tall above and behind them. He had his paw and claw folded across his chest, an undeniable expression of disgust upon his features. Octavia found she preferred the twisted smile.

“And what of this is disappointing to you?” Octavia asked, one part curious and two parts annoyed. If the draconequus continued speaking, it would easily become a ratio of one to four.

“Oh, come now. I want to be impressed, not bored.” Discord scoffed turning head and raising his paw as if he had seen something disgusting. It only gave Octavia more merit for despising the draconequus. “A piano and cello? They’ve only been played together for, oh, how long has it been…? ah, yes. A few thousand years or so.” Discord whirled his claw in an oval shape as he spoke. Octavia hid her surprise well, but nevertheless she was taken aback by the presence of a miniature planet appearing about his finger, twirling with the motion of his appendage.

“Then we will simply not play,” Luna spoke back in the controlled voice Octavia had heard her use only scarcely before. It was vacant of the understanding tone the gray alicorn was used to, sounding more like a mother scolding her child than a mentor with her student. She supposed when speaking to Discord, it was an appropriate tone to have. “Do not forget, this is merely a show of good faith. If you would rather not listen, then you may leave. Octavia and I have plenty more we can discuss without your presence.”

“Oh!” Discord’s features warped from unimpressed to pained with all the time it took a mare to flick her hoof. The small curve of his crooked lips told Octavia how faux the action was. “Princess, you wound me. Here I am attempting to help, but you will not even allow me to enjoy myself. Is it too much to ask for something new to shine before me?”

As the draconequus spoke, he raised his paw and claw to his mismatched red pupils. Then, wiping them like a rag across a dusty table, he changed his eyes. The one to his left, smaller in size, changed to the starry-night cello Luna had gifted Octavia. The eye to his right, large and in charge, became the same piano that the princess sat behind. It disturbed Octavia a little how swiftly she was growing used to Discord’s antics. It was either that, or living with Vinyl had built up her tolerance better than she previously gave credit for.

“Your aide often ends with some form of chaos to plague the ponies involved,” Luna shot back. Octavia only just now noticed how her mane lacked the usual wave it always had. It seemed rather… straight, almost jagged. It still sparkled, however. “Your presence being tolerated is gift enough. Do not ask what is beyond your welcome.”

“Dear princess,” Discord responded with an amused chuckle, towering over the dark alicorn as he spoke. Octavia noted the draconequus’s size, true, but more than that, she noted how undeterred the princess appeared to be. It was admirable, in all honesty. “It’s not about what I want to have, it’s about what I want to feel. I want to be surprised, and I can hardly feel such a way if I already know all the tools involved.”

Whilst Luna and Discord debated about the piece that would be played, Octavia found herself thinking on something slightly different. Her mind was on the music, but it wasn’t on deciding between the draconequus or dark alicorn, as the choice was obvious to her. No, her mind was on a lesson that her father had taught her, following a disappointing recital at a young age. She had been shooed off the stage for not adding innovation into a classical piece; dismissed for boring the judges is what she was later told.

Her father, while comforting and understanding, told her not to dismiss their viewpoints. Rather, he said the opposite. He told her that the quickest and most assured way to silence a pony was not to show them the opposite of what they wanted. Rather, it was to show them exactly what they wanted, to impress them to the point where all arguments withered and died. It was a lesson she never forgot.

With the same determination that Octavia possessed when she played with Vinyl, the gray alicorn approached Luna.

“Discord,” the gray alicorn spoke, earning the draconequus’s attention. She put out of mind how his limbs were now various instruments and his teeth picks, likely to illustrate some intangible point about the variety in music. “Allow us to surprise you with the expected.”

The delight that filled his face could have qualified for a dictionary definition of happy.

The surprise across Luna’s visage could have qualified for just as much for shock.

“Octavia,” the elder alicorn spoke, her voice subdued as she directed it at the younger alicorn. “What is it you plan to do? You must understand that Discord is not a creature to be trifled or underestimated.”

“I understand,” Octavia honestly replied. “But I was taught on how to handle hecklers and naysayers as well.” Luna blinked at the cellist’s words, but it was soon replaced by a prideful grin. Discord, silently, watched on. Likely far too intrigued to risk spoiling the fun.

“Very well,” the Luna Princess returned. “Do you require any assistance?” Octavia smiled in return, beyond grateful.

“I do. In fact, I was hoping to borrow your piano,” Octavia’s hoof motioned towards the large instrument, lid popped open and fall board raised. Luna’s gaze turned curious, but her smile did not waver. She nodded her head, and so Octavia approached.

The gray alicorn wasted no time in standing above the far end of the piano, not above the keys but above the exposed strings. She stared inside of it, letting a moment of peace pass over her as she stared at the intricacies that made up the overly complicated but wholly beautiful tool. Her cello would always be her favorite instrument, she had no less respect for other instruments of classical design.

“My mother was a pianist,” she spoke aloud, likely directed to Luna but not even Octavia was aware to whom she was speaking. “She explained to me once the importance of maintaining the strings inside the piano, how they were the true key to playing the instrument. She showed me how, without the use of keys or chords, to play notes along the piano.”

Instead of explaining further, as the alicorn was sure the princess and mad god were expecting, Octavia chose action. Reaching to one of the many strings beneath the lid of the piano, she angled her hoof until the tip was touching one of the strings, C Sharp from what remembered of key layouts.

With a light pluck, the note rang through the room, pure and sweet. She shut her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sound. It competed well for the strength of the cello, but it was still only a close second in her heart.

“Princess,” Octavia spoke calmly, a tone she couldn’t help but feel was inviting for her to use. She opened her eyes half-lidded and focused them on the dark alicorn. Luna looked only mildly shocked, a bit flustered, but otherwise calm. “Would you like to play with me?”

The alicorn turned her gaze slightly to look at the keys of the grand instrument, white and black up and down the aisle. She looked from them back to Octavia, watching the gray alicorn hold her hooves over the strings inside the piece. It was clearly far from any normal means to play the instrument, but that seemed to be the point.

With a soft smile and twinkle in her eyes, Luna nodded and approached the instrument.

Discord made himself oddly bare and silent, but only a look towards him showed the deep curiosity he had. The Lunar Princess settled herself behind the pew of the piano, letting her fore hooves rest on the keys as her rear hooves settled on the pedals below. She released a breath, likely to calm herself before the piece. Octavia found herself mimicking the action before she spoke.

“I’ll lead,” Octavia spoke softly to the princess. “You follow.” She readied her hooves as she spoke, a sign from one player to another. Luna saw it and did not mistake.

With that, Octavia began to play.

BEGIN

She plucked the strings of the high notes, hearing them ring for a moment in the air. Already she felt it odd to play this way, not only away from a cello but away from the intended keys. But the music rang through the air, true as a chime, and she felt no need to be wary of her skill. The gray alicorn continued to pluck the same strings, creating a soft motif to the song already. Three notes, high and soft, but steady in pace.

Octavia continued to pull at the notes, one hoof now to the job. As she did, she reached deeper into the dark piano, seeing the taut strings clear as a night’s moon. The ones she took note of were longer in length than the strings she was plucking now, reaching deeper into the carved case of the piano. Letting her stretched hoof fall, she began to tap the deep strings.

Deeper notes rolled from the strings, matching the harmony of the higher strings. They did not suddenly sing from the notes, as her the strings she plucked did. They rolled, increasing with volume the deeper her hoof suppressed them. Singing high notes, octaves above the scale, and rolling deep notes, comfortable in the Bass Clef. They went together beautifully.

Octavia felt her lids roll close, enjoying the sound she was creating; her cello and bow no where to be found as she created the music.

Suddenly then, the notes began to play. Octavia didn’t need to open her eyes to know it was Luna, taking over and joining the song. She was still sitting at the pew, one hoof on the keys as she started to play a small melody, carried by the harmony of Octavia’s raw strings. It sounded as if there were many more than simply to two mares playing together, and it sounded far different than a single piano being used. But it was a beautiful sound, and that was all Octavia needed.

The notes from the keys changed suddenly, duller and less pronounced that Octavia expected them to be. She spared a glance downwards, eyes only half-lidded as her mind still savored the music. She saw a dark hoof extended beneath the lid of the piano, reaching over the keys and holding down the strings by their base. Octavia recognized the effect immediately. Like any stringed instrument, changing where they were held changed their sound.

A light pounding rocked the piano, a vibration that carried through the dark wood. It took the cellist a moment to realize that it was Luna who made the sound, pounding her hoof on an open portion of the piano. It was dull, heavy, but carried the rest of notes like a raft over water. It suited the piece well.

It suited it well for not only making the sound only so much more enjoyable, but also because the cellist and pianist were playing as they never had before. It still felt as natural as walking through a park in the twilight of the day. Octavia felt her head shake left and right, her long dark mane flowing over her back and through the space between her wings. It was a song she had never heard before, as all of her ‘sessions’ had been. But it was still a song she felt deserved to be remembered.

Quick as she could, changed the notes she plucked and strum. She started to lightly beat a full chords worth of notes, beating the hollow exterior of the piano to match them. It was far louder in volume than before, but it felt appropriate for the rise in the music. Luna must have agreed, for in perfect harmony with Octavia, the dark alicorn had lifted her hoof from the interior of the piano and began to play with true vigor.

It was only a few chords, a couple of whole measures, but the notes Luna played danced over the beat and rhythm Octavia set perfectly. It sounded not as if it were their first time attempting such a ballad, or even the foolish attempt at experimenting with music, as it was. It sounded like a piece of music that was millennia in the making. It made Octavia grin, eyes still shut and savoring every note they played.

As Luna lifted her hooves from the keys, Octavia wasted no time in briefly taking over. Down the exterior of the piano, beating the wood with her forehooves, she played eight hollow notes on the carved wood, free of any strung strings or tuned keys. It was the perfect bridge for what came next.

Luna began to play the full notes to a grand piece.

Octavia felt the strings dance to the notes the Lunar Princess played, jumping with each fall of the action, echoing across the bridge, and filling the room with a sound that made Octavia wish to dance. And she did dance, but across the piano, rather than a ballroom floor. She felt her hoof rise and fall in an even temp on the lower strings, carrying the piece that dark alicorn played. Her other hoof continued to beat on the side of the piano, setting a dull but constant beat to the piece.

The cellist, currently a modified pianist, could hear, could feel the energy that Luna played with. It didn’t simply echo in her notes, it followed her movements. She played each chord with purpose, free of worry or embarrassment. She crafted the music as Octavia would, the two making a harmony unlike what near any stallion or mare would have ever expected. It was beyond entertainment; it was wonderful.

Octavia let her hoofs beat down on the chords, quick in pace just as they had before this chorus began. And as she finished, Luna upped her energy. She raised the notes in pitch, doubtlessly dancing on her pew the same way Octavia did above the strings. Both were lost to the music they played.

And though her eyes were shut, Octavia began to see again.

She could see the abnormal becoming reality, the strange becoming the accepted, and even the odd being welcomed as the new. She saw an eager foal strumming on the strings of a cello, no bow in his hooves but loving the sound all the while. She saw a happy pony, hopping about and throwing parties in a farm of rocks, dancing to a sound that no others heard. She saw a young sister, alone in the night, playing with her elder in the dusk and dawn, playing the piano as her sister sang to the notes. They all bridged their worlds with music.

Then the piece dropped. It didn’t end, and certainly didn’t stop, but the energy of Octavia and Luna fell in an instant. They were back to the beginning, back to where they started.

Octavia was plucking the strings as she lightly beat on others, setting the tempo and rhythm as she had before. Luna was just beside her, lightly tapping on the notes like a curious foal, though her wonder was left more for the music they made together and less for the sound she conjured. Octavia had yet to open her eyes, yet to see the workings of the piano she continued to use like a harp. But still, she continued to see.

She saw the mad god watching the ponies, from within a hollow tree. She watched as he wished, stared as he muttered, and gazed as he plotted. She could see his every idea for change, thinking on all his curious machinations of disorder, some filled with deceit. It was not a thing she was happy to watch. It was… inappropriate.

She lifted her hooves from the piano for a moment, unsure of how she wanted to play. Octavia kept her hooves beneath the lid, above the piano, and ready to pluck, strum, or beat any of the strings, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know where. Thankfully, Luna did.

Like the solo to a symphony, the dark alicorn played on.

The notes were far from different to anything they had already played, the same energetic notes that had ruled the sound of the duet, but to Octavia, it was more. It was an alluring sound, an extension of a hoof from one mare to another. It was the soft inviting melody of the symphony, beckoning a curious foal to listen. It was the invitation of a lifetime. It was one Octavia couldn’t allow herself to miss.

Luna continued to play the same notes, the same appealing sound Octavia had already accepted. She joined in with tapping on a mid C, hardly but still gently adding to the energy that Luna carried. Octavia was no longer the rhythm to Luna’s music. For this moment, she was the lead. She felt a pleasured sigh leave her lips, wondering why she ever stumbled.

Her mind wished to remind her, showing her the same copious creature as before, thinking of deeds far from joyous. But this time, Octavia was prepared.

She listened to Luna’s music, listened to the dark alicorn guide her through the music, through the beat, and through the dream. Now, Octavia saw as she had before, in the hollow tree with dark intentions. But there was something new to the image, to the vision. The small addition was enough to turn the unwelcome oddity into an embraced variation.

A young pegasus, canary in coat and with a pink mane nearly as long as the cellist’s, stood behind the mad god, smiling up at him. He turned to her, smiling down at her. The two carried a silent conversation, one that Octavia listened to with her mind and soul. She listened to the acceptance of what the mad god was, the cajoling of what he wanted to do, but the welcome embrace of desire to change.

The music began to pick up again, with a new addition to the melody.

Octavia could hear the soft vocals of a stallion, singing along wordlessly to the beat. The strums in his voice matching the beats of the piano, moving perfectly with the notes Luna continued to play. It turned the melody form a unique duet to an unforgettable trio. It reminded Octavia of the reason she loved music.

Then the music reached its apex.

Octavia dashed to the front of the piano, eyes shut and guided by the sounds Luna continued to make, her hooves gliding down the keys like a wave through water. When she reached the far end of the piano, she began to beat on the deep strings with a controlled vigor, with a joy that made her lips turn up and shut eyes alight with glee.

The voice that sang with them picked up the energy with as much thirst as a dry beach. It “ummed”, it “ahed”, it sang high “ooes” that carried over the music as perfectly as the clouds above an ocean. It was more than a single voice, it was a chorus, a chorus that lacked nothing in enthusiasm, that gained everything with the music being played with it.

And Octavia continued to see with her shut eyes.

She saw the reformation of a villain lost to chaos. She saw the acceptance of a bully, changed from spite to sympathy. She saw a dragon being raised by a pony, a pony being brought up by a buffalo, and a rabbit being kept by a bear. She saw a unicorn with a white coat playing music that had never been heard before, a crippled pegasus playing to a passionate crowd, a lonely pegasus singing to her small animal friends.

She saw a filly raised by a pair of mares. She saw a colt being raised by a couple of stallions. She saw filly and dragon, holding claw and hoof as they walked through a garden. She saw a phoenix hatchling following a young alicorn, warming the alabaster coat. She saw love.

She saw a stallion kissing a tombstone goodbye. She saw a young mare waving her parents as she boarded a train. She saw a pair of foals saying goodbye as they galloped into a school. She saw a stallion kissing a mare, the same mare kissing him back. She saw acceptance. She saw what made them all so beautiful.

Octavia saw so much change, and she deeply, truly loved it all.

Then, with an odd seven notes from Luna, the song ended.

END

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” Cheers erupted from behind her and the princess, complete with a cacophony of clapping hooves and praise. It was odd only because there was but a single listener to her and the princess’s piece.

Octavia turned to see not one Discord, but several dozen, all clapping paw and claw together. Some had tears of ice falling down their mismatched red eyes. Others were waving handkerchiefs in the air, a form of praise that Octavia had seen only a few mares do during the symphony. Then a few others were whistling through their crooked teeth and grins, placing the edges of their claws between their lips as they blew. The gray alicorn could just make out the sound of the whistle coming from their ears and not their mouths.

But if there was one similarity they all had, it was praise. All the various copies of Discord were praising the pair of alicorns. Octavia grinned despite herself.

She looked to Luna, who was looking back at her. The Lunar Princess had donned her own expression of surprise, though subdued and tame. It contained only a slight part in her lips and widening of her eyes. Other than that, the regal alicorn looked as composed as near every other meeting Octavia had had with her.

But then, she saw the mare began to smile. It was subtle, like the surprise she wore, but it slowly grew. It changed from being the faint grin of her lips, the twinkle in her eye, into an unmistakable smile across her cheeks. It showed her pearly whites, stretched the princess’s features, and made her eyes practically shine like the stars in her mane. It was almost enough to take Octavia’s breath away.

It was only when the gray alicorn diverted her gaze from the Lunar Princess that she saw the afterglow of her magic at work.

The effects reminded Octavia of her sessions with Fiddlesticks on her porch, always ending with bringing new life and light to the ponies and orchard around them. Except now, in Luna’s private chambers and with nay to eat, the glow was upon one of the most important objects in the room.

The piano beneath their hooves shined, but in a way that was unmistakably unique. It wasn’t simply a reflection of light, and illumination of the instrument, it was a specific shine to each of its parts. The keys glowed like a night bug’s tale, going on and off as if signaling for them to be played. The exposed strings glimmered like stars, twinkling in and out in a dazzling yet subdued manner. Even the hard oak of the piano’s structure had an illumination to it, like ripples in an otherwise calm pond.

It took the cellist a moment, and a long one at that with Discord still cheering, crying, waving, and begging with his collective of clones, but Octavia recognized a pattern to the glow. She noted before that each appeared to signal a need to be played, strung, or in some cases even beaten, but it was not because the instrument was alive. No, what the glow as doing was far more interesting.

It was repeating the song the cellist and princess had just played.

But then, like the magic had done in all of her other sessions, it slowly began to fade, letting the lights die out, twinkle subdue, and illumination cease. Soon, it was just another piano. Still a marvelous one, crafted for the princess of the night and caring no less than a masterful level of craft, but hardly as eye-catching as the effects of Octavia’s magic had made it before. It was almost disappointing, in a way.

“Oh my dear Octavia!” The gray alicorn felt her attention diverted as Discord wrapped his paw around her waist. A moment later, she found herself being lifted into the air, held in a tight hug by the tall draconequus. She could imagine his twisted grin above her, but all she could see was his slytherin body. “You know how to make an old spirit choke, don’t you? Oh my, that was so beautiful! So predictable in sound by so unique in play! Making the old new again, oh why I might just start to cry!” Octavia did her best to ignore the hail like droplets of water landing into her long mane. She didn’t have the heart to remind herself what they were.

“That’s enough, Discord,” Luna’s commanding voice spoke from aside the two. “I believe we both understand your joy for the abnormal method to playing the piece.” To Octavia’s unspoken delight, Discord did release her, letting her fall near unceremoniously to the ground.

“But it’s so much more than that!” The draconequus let out, seemingly melting with joy. No, Octavia realized, just melting. The multicolored puddle shouted enthusiastically, “I’ve never seen something so predictable yet so surprising! I still can’t tell if it was the fact that it was obvious that it was surprising, or if the surprise was that it was obvious.”

“You are not making any sense,” Luna sighed shortly after she spoke the words. “I suppose that is the point, is it not?”

“Only partially.” A now-familiar bang of white filled the room, returning Discord to his tall and copiously compiled form. It took Octavia another full moment to realize that she had shifted as well. Specifically, to just beside Luna. The two shared a glance before looking back at Discord.

The draconequus was standing in front of the two, letting the digits of his paw and claw drum together in an almost menacing manner. Though Octavia had not yet let her disdain for the creature disappear, she knew enough now to know he was no threat, her patience aside.

“The better part of your little performance were the questions it raised. So many individual and whole separate things, a thousand and one indecipherable questions that each beg to be answered.” He laughed jovially at his own words, clearly seeing a joke that both alicorns missed.

“I would much rather hear answers than questions,” Octavia spoke honestly to the mad god. He turned to her with his mismatched gaze, his crooked smile leaning sideways.

“Oh I know you silly ponies love your answers. Single use, one way, unchanging facts, but I think questions are so much more useful.” Discord snapped his paw, forcing a road of pavement to suddenly appear behind him, through Luna’s chambers. Either the alicorn was well aware of the intention to remove it at a later date, or she was long used to his invasion of boundaries. Octavia hoped it was the former. “For example, why did the chicken cross the road?”

“To get to the other side,” Octavia responded with little hesitation. She had heard the question before, specifically from Vinyl. The unicorn had said it was for breaking the ice, but it had only succeeded in cementing the idea of the unicorn’s simplicity into the alicorn.

“Ah, but that is only one answer.” Discord snapped his claw this time, making a chalkboard hover behind him. A copy of himself was standing on top of the green board, holding a piece of white chalk in its extended tail. Both of the creatures were grinning broadly as the larger of the two spoke on. “Maybe it wanted to get to the other side, but what about for food? Or perhaps water? Maybe it wanted a sense of adventure, a bit of danger. Who’s to say it wasn’t even looking at the road? Maybe it was just trying to go for a walk.” With every answer, Discord wrote down one of the answers.

So many different answers to the same question. If there was not a glaring problem with the logic of the draconequus, his mindset aside, Octavia may have seen his point.

“Questions only contain one answer, Discord,” Luna spoke before Octavia could, addressing the fallacy of the draconequus’s logic before the gray alicorn could. The cellist smiled regardless. It made her happy to know that Luna was in line with her thinking.

“Really?” Discord questions, his face clearly showing no sign of believing the Night Princess’s words. “Then I suppose spells only have one use, pegasi fly in only one direction, the sun and moon move only one way, and you only become an alicorn when you plan on it.” The last example struck a chord.

“What are you saying?” Octavia heard the disdain clear in her voice. She could feel her features pulled in a frown. She heard the thought that he would turn her lips upside down as he had done to Luna before, but she remembered his hesitance to repeat performance. “If you know something about how I became like… this.” The Octavia motioned over her body with her hoof. “Then I implore you to-”

Octavia’s words ceased as she found herself gasping instead.

In an instant, a literal instant, Octavia found herself being swung across the room. Her body hunched downwards, attempting to grab the floor beneath her, but instead only found a long board. She looked down at the platform she was suddenly resting on, noticing her height raised from the floor. Her wings extended instinctively, attempting to balance herself.

She fell and wrapped her legs about the platform when the ground beneath her disappeared.

True was it was her wings were now strong and steady, she had little confidence that she could suspend herself in a void, which was apparently where she was now. No lights, no stars, nothing to stand on but the platform beneath her. Her head swiveled to see Princess Luna, thankfully. The only disappointment was that she was at the other end of the platform, wearing a face of anger. Octavia knew who it was reserved for.

Her thoughts, however, were interrupted as a popping sound echoed from behind her. She turned to see not Discord, as she had assumed, but a pair of princesses. One she knew very well, having spoken with her on many of correspondence. The other Octavia had only ever seen in ceremony or name. She addressed the first.

“Twilight?” Octavia spoke the lavender alicorn’s name. Said alicorn, however, didn’t respond. In fact, it looked rather… lifeless. It unnerved Octavia greatly. That is, until she lightly poked the mare, hoping to feel some resistance to her hoof. Instead, it bent inwards, like it would if she was fluffing her pillow before bed. With a sigh of annoyance, Octavia pieced together the rest rather easily.

She turned back across the new void to see Luna near mimicking her, but with a large doll of Celestia instead. Octaiva turned back towards her own pair of princess plushies, eyeing both Twilight and Princess Cadance. She didn’t know if she should be thankful or regretful that they were not real.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Discord’s voice echoed about the void. Octavia’s eyes strained to find him, but had no such luck. That was, until, she looked down. Not simply on the platform beneath her, but beneath the long board itself.

At the center of the platform, like the fulcrum to a swing, Discord was there, holding up the board with one of his horns, grinning all the while.

“This precious thing called harmony, balance even, always easily swung with just the smallest of change.” With his words, Octavia felt something shift in the platform. Specifically, it was sinking, bending towards her side as Luna’s rose. The dark alicorn across from her wore a similar expression of realization. “But always changing again to not lose that boring sense of balance.”

As the mad god finished, the platform changed again. Octavia watched, silently, as the platform on Luna’s side extended. Specifically, it grew sideways, as if another platform was growing perpendicular to the one they were on. Luna extended one way, hunched over and her wings extended for added balance, and the life-size doll of Celestia the other. Octavia did not miss the color of the platforms, darkness to light, Luna to Celestia. The platform began to shift again, this time bending towards Luna.

Octavia was about to speak a demand, finding her voice to tell Discord to stop. That was, until, she felt herself being lifted up. Not with magic, not with the draconequus’s mad art, but rather by his own claw.

She looked up to see him above her, towering over as he near always did. But she also saw him beneath the platform, holding it at the center. Octavia found her voice again, ready to demand her release, but then the platform now beneath her changed again.

On her side, or what was her side, the platform began to extend the same way as Luna’s had, taking the plush doll of Twilight and Cadance with it. Octavia watched, looking back and forth across the platform, wondering what was going on. It was more than obvious that balance was the exercise, but she couldn’t imagine for what.

“But as precious as balance is, just the smallest, random detail can throw it all off course.”

Octavia finally found her voice when Discord released her. She let out a frightened scream as she fell downwards. Her wings flapped madly, slowing her fall and pushing against whatever filled the void they were in. It wasn’t enough for her to fly, as she had hoped, but it was enough for her to land easily on the platform. When she did, she shook her long dark mane out of her eyes, looking around at what had changed.

As far as she could tell, she had only landed in a different place. At equal distances from her were Luna and all the dolls. Only the Princess of the Night was offering her an expression of worry. But, Octavia noticed something else, specifically what was missing. There was worry, no small amount of irritation, but no fear. Princess Luna was not afraid. Octavia sorely hoped that meant she had nothing to fear as well.

“Between the sun and the moon,” Discord spoke. As he did, the end that Luna was on started to light up. Octavia watched as the dark alicorn tiptoed with her hooves, startled by the sudden illumination of the board they were on. “Between friendship and love,” the draconequus spoke on. Octavia felt a light shine across her back, on her wings. She turned to see the end of the platform she was once on now lit up like Luna’s side. There were no alicorns to react to the sudden glow, however. “There exists something that cannot be seen.”

Octavia felt Discord loom over her, the same one of the two that had picked her up. She gazed upwards, thankful that her aggravation at the mad god was still present. It kept her from shaking in fear at the sheer size of the draconequus. His crooked smile and mismatched eyes only infuriated her further. But with his next words, all of that was put aside.

“What is it?”

The question stunned the gray mare silent.

Octavia felt her wings fall, limp at her sides, as her eyes widened at the mad god. She could feel the smaller furs of her coat standing up, either surprised by the expression or suddenly realizing the importance of the answer she gave. An answer she had no idea how to reach.

Her gaze looked over to Luna, still standing on the far off end of the blue colored and illuminated platform. She was gazing back at her, dark cerulean eyes focused and in control. Her wings were strong and tucked into her sides, long starry many billowing in a wind Octavia could not feel.

She looked at the platform she stood on, plain and dark, unlike the platforms that Luna and the plushies stood on. Theirs were bright and colorful, mimicking the magical aura that each of the princesses had. Dark, light, pink, lavender, they were all there, but they also bled together. Where the moon and sun met, it became gray. Where the pink and lavender intersected, it became a dull red.

Though Discord spoke of what she could not see, there was something very real and very much connecting these ponies of opposites right now.

“A bridge.” Octavia spoke the words as she looked at the long platform she stood on. “A bridge connects them.”

Discord’s smile grew joyful at her words. But though his smile grew and red eyes shone, nothing about the void changed. Not the draconequus, not the platform, not either alicorn, and not even the life-sized plushies of the princesses.

There was something she was missing, some small word that Discord was waiting on her to speak. Maybe he didn’t know it himself, maybe it was for Octavia herself to figure.

Then she remembered the chalkboard Discord had used earlier. Filled with a dozen different answers, each to the same question. None of them were wrong as he had said, all of them an answer that worked for the question asked.

None of them were wrong… because all of them were the same.

They were all the same.

So many different answers to the same question.

A bridge connected the sun and the moon, but what was the bridge? A bridge was between friendship and love, but what was that bridge? Were they the same? Where they two different things with the same meaning? Were they opposite in name but he same in use? What did that even mean?

Octavia hummed lightly to herself, trying to control her thoughts as she thought of now not one question, but a hundred. She heard the cellos in her mind rising in pace, the violins going higher in pitch. The trumpets were not far behind, the sound of their brass horns becoming louder and louder as the thoughts continued on.

But as her music continued to play, the platform beneath her changed. It didn’t sway or tumble, as it had before with balance. It did suddenly shift or grow any extra sides. It only did what the opposite ends of the balanced beam had already done.

The center of her long platform began to glow.

It was dull at first, like the subtlety of her note, but as her thoughts became louder, so too did the illumination become brighter. The gray began to shine like a light through a mist, a guide for those lost of the shore. It passed through the darkness and ignored the light, shining in a way only the mixture of gray could do. It was odd; it was wonderful. Discord’s twisted grin above showed his agreement.

But why was it glowing now? Because of her thoughts? Because of her distractions? That didn’t make any sense, and she suspected Discord wanted some piece of this to make sense, though a small one at that. There had to be something that made the path glow, something obvious that she was missing. Something that had to do with her thoughts, with her instrument….

… With her magic…

… Her magic of the soul.

Octavia felt her stomach do flips and her wings shiver at the realization. Luna had said it before, and the past few weeks had been filled with exploring those words. She was using magic of the soul, connecting ponies of opposite ways to find what they both enjoyed. From the classical arts to modern music. From the most rural of areas to the most populated cities. From humble beginnings to royal introductions. They were all so opposite, so clearly unfit for one another.

By to the eye… she could not see what made each of the ponies she had met get along with her. She could not tell by sight why she enjoyed Vinyl’s company, why Twilight Sparkle was pleasant conversation, why Fiddlesticks made her feel alive, why Ditzy Doo made her smile, or why Princess Luna spoke to her as an equal. Conjectures and theories, but nothing that could be seen with her eyes.

“Music,” Octavia whispered the word, but then shook her head. Music itself was a path, a link, to what truly connected them. “The soul. The soul of a pony bridges any gap between them.”

Discord exploded above her.

Octavia felt herself yelp in surprise as the mad god became nothing but confetti, showing her like rain from a freshly bucked storm cloud. The bang that came with the sudden blast didn’t help her nerves. It really didn’t help that the confetti was copious enough in amount to nearly blind her.

Indeed, the void around became near impossible to see as the colorful and copiously spread confetti nearly choked the gray alicorn. She beat her wings in hopes to push the flittering paper aside, but only succeeded in drawing more in towards her. She batted them away with her hooves, doing even less than her wings. Octavia shut her eyes, for fear that they would fall into her gaze.

But then, stealing a peek, she saw that they were all gone. Everything was gone, in fact.

The platform was gone, the confetti was gone, even the void was gone. She was back in Luna’s chambers, complete with her darkly decorated curtains, bedspread, and pillows strewn about the room. Said princess was just beside her, as if they had never moved a step away. She was blinking wildly as well, head swiveling left and right in confusion. Where her gaze settled on the younger alicorn, she spoke.

“Are you alright?” She questioned earnestly, to which Octavia nodded her head. She was okay, simply started and a bit confused. She had since concluded such things were common in Discord’s company.

“Well done! Well done!” Discord cheered behind the pair. Both alicorns whirled to see the mad god floating in the air, as if lying on a hammock they couldn’t see. He was clapping his paw and claw together, wearing a cheerful expression that made Octavia’s mind snarl. “Using two answers to a single question to reach a conclusion. Oh, my dearest Octavia, I knew I could count on you to make things interesting.” He chuckled at his own words and Octavia heard Luna scoff at him, clearly not entertained.

“Discord,” Octavia began, reeling in any disdain she might have to ask another question. He had helped her just now, even if in his own chaotically melded way. “I have… another question I wish to ask you.”

“Oh and you do know how I love questions, but I prefer to be on the giving end.” He held his claw to his slytherin body, grinning in a much more subdued but still twisted manner. Octavia could not gather if his thoughts were malicious or simply convoluted. “It’s much more fun to hear your answers. I’m not very skilled in returning balance and all that.”

“Yes, that much I have gathered,” Octavia let a small amount of bite into her voice, hoping to show her teeth. It only made Discord chuckle. “But if it is all the same, I would still like to try. You may even enjoy the question yourself.” That earned a rise from the draconequus.

“Oh Octavia, I was right about you.” His claw detached itself from his arm with a small flash of white, appearing above the gray mare. It poked her with one of its long digits, like an elder complimenting their grandchild. “Well, please go on.”

“Octavia.” Said cellist turned to see Luna gazing at her, her expression far from neutral or annoyed. There was a shimmer to her eyes, a moisture that was not common for the sclera to hold. Her lips were not turned down, but neither were they lifted in a cheerful grin. Even her ears, it seemed, were pulled against her head, though partially hidden by her long ethereal mane and crown. She seemed to have a clear idea what the question was.

It took Octavia a full moment to realize the reason for the princess’s expression. Worry. That… oddly to the mare herself, made Octavia smile.

“Thank you, Luna,” Octavia spoke to the dark mare, her smile kind and hopefully just. “But I don’t believe any harm can come from asking.” She pretended not to notice the slight blush that ran across the princess’s cheeks.

Looking back at Discord, arm detached and grin just as crooked with eyes equally mismatched, Octavia spoke her simple, concise, but wholly unknown inquiry.

“Why me?”

Octavia felt Luna gaze at her, either out of pity or equal parts curiosity. She did not feel awkward or ashamed under such a gaze from the princess, not now at least. She suspected that any answer she reached would satisfy them both. And… Luna was a very understanding mare.

Discord grinned down at her. The alicorn was glad to see only a gleeful kind of curiosity in his eyes, no malicious sparkle in his mismatched red pupils.

“Another interesting question, why indeed?” He offered in return. “So many little things that no pony would dare to comprehend, and so many wonderful whys and who’s to complicate matters.” Discord chuckled at the thought of it. “I daresay that the greatest surprise in a good long while may come out of this. But, that does mean that this is not the end.”

In another flash of white, Discord vanished from the pair, claw included. A loud bang later, he was just beside Octavia, opposite Luna. He had his paw wrapped around her neck, holding her close like cider-drinking buddies after a day’s hard work. Long face close to her ear, grinning all the while, Discord spoke his question in return.

“So, my dear Octavia, who do you plan on asking that question next?” It was a simple question, too simple for the draconequus. Octavia waited only a moment, and sure enough, Discord spoke on. “But may I make a small suggestion for your plans. Advice from an age-old god.”

“Hm?” Octavia attempted to ask in a somber manner, trying to betray the hope she had in Discord. She couldn’t help the wandering idea that he had planned on her feelings for him to turn from disdain to guidance. Judging by this twisted grin, the idea was not impossible.

“Don’t ask just one pony, as a few, or a dozen!” He threw up his arms as he spoke, rising in teh opposite direction of Octavia’s gut. “I know you’ve already played a few duets with a few stray mares. Charming, I’m sure, but if there is one place harmony and chaos can agree, it’s that everything is better when the company is larger.”

“He may be right.” Octavia wasn’t sure how to feel when she heard those words come for Luna. The dark alicorn didn’t appear to be any happier with herself, head hanging low and waving side-to-side. “We do know now that your music is a connection, but we have yet to see the extent to which it reaches.”

It was odd, but Octavia was not panicking.

Truthfully, the gray alicorn thought she should be feeling parched, with a dry throat or mouth, maybe feel as if her legs would give out. She had been so nervous before by the mere thought of another pony seeing her… as she was now. It took the insistence of Vinyl to remove her from her room, the guidance of Luna to invite to her new mentors, and even Fiddle to allow her to relax in stressful times.

Maybe that was why she wasn’t nervous. She was just… used to it. Octavia smiled.

“Oh! So do we have an answer?” Discord asked from above her. The cellist looked up to see the mad god standing on the ceiling, looking down… up… at her. Her smile didn’t falter as she looked at his miss-matched, red eyes.

“Not an answer,” Octavia spoke, voice clear and fluid. “We have a question.”

She could see the stars dance in the draconequus eyes.

Author's Note

So, here comes the mega question... Get ready for some debate.

Whatever choice is made, small guest characters will appear to help with musical choices, similar to the Apple Family with Fiddlesticks. They will change depending on what lead characters is chosen. Chose carefully!

Who should Octavia ask to help assemble a musical piece with?
A) Vinyl Scratch

"Hey Vinyl! I'm bringin' in the crew! We're gonna have a REAL jam session now!"

Style: Mega Mashups

Character(s): Living Tombstone, Mic the Microphone, Eurobeat Brony, Pinkie Pie, etc.

Example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjYWwZYLYEs
B) Princess Luna

"Perhaps now it would be time to hear your talent whilst unobstructed."

Style: Large-Scale Classical

Character(s): Princes Celestia, Lyra Heartstrings, Twilight, etc.

Example: https://soundcloud.com/nicikinsmanmusic/nkinsman-cover-true-colours
C) Discord

"Oh what fun! I wonder how many walls I have to break; this is a celebration!"

Style: Out-of-Genre Musical Instruments

Warning!: These characters are from outside ponydom!

Character(s): Lindsey Stirling, Soul Eater, Karl, Fluttershy, etc.

Example: http://www.yourepeat.com/watch/?v=01jgYIZfHrM
D) Drifter

"Long time no see! Do you want to hear a rock ballad?"

Style: Soft to Hard Rock

Character(s): Aviators, Acoustic, Mando, Rainbow Dash, etc.

Example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91iXRMkmFbs
E) Other

SURPRISE ME

Note: Must Include musical examples/options

Be aware that this is the second to last choice, as the choice made will influence the next few chapters, due to the sheer size of the music I am trying to tackle.

The Verse: Part 1

Octavia thought of herself as an honest mare, never lying and at worst keeping a secret or two. It was important to her that she be seen as honest, far from deceitful at that. Lying and being lied to were the quickest ways to tarnish trust between friends and family. For acquaintances, it flat out burnt the bridges.

True, Octavia had secrets to hide, as her wings and horns hidden beneath her layers of clothes were more than evidence of. But at least hiding a secret was a far cry from an outright lie. She never spoke falsely or acted out of deceit. To her parents and friends, she always honest about who she wanted to be, what she wanted to do, and where she was going to do it.

The gray alicorn, earth pony at the time, realized early on how deep of a doubled edged blade it was. Most ponies made fast friends with her, relieved to know they could count on her, and trusted that they would not be lied to. Others, however, saw the bluntness of her words to be more rude than kind, and thus, gave her an occasional negative reputation. They never bothered Octavia.

It wasn’t until she had met Vinyl, a mare so far and gone opposite to her, that Octavia realized the problems that arose with being honest. Though Vinyl preferred the late nights while Octavia herself enjoyed the early mornings, both mares were honest with what they did at those times. While Vinyl found Octavia’s preference for classical music with a cup of tea humorous, Octavia found Vinyl’s penchant for late nights with complete strangers in enclosed rooms to be horrifying. Honestly, Octavia very well may have preferred a lie.

Though honesty at those times was her enemy, she never let it keep her from telling the truth. What it did do, however, was teach her to hold her tongue. Avoid certain conversations, leave before questions were asked, divert attention if necessary, but whenever the subject of her rambunctious roommate and late night activities came into question, Octavia honestly kept her life a secret.

It was training, the gray alicorn now supposed, so she could hide herself without telling lies. But keeping secrets was not something she enjoyed, no matter how well Vinyl had unintentionally prepared her for it. They felt deceitful, underhoofed at that. Keeping something hidden from another pony for selfish reasons.

It was why, for one of the few times in her life, she felt horrible in the Orchestra’s Theatre Hall.

There was nothing wrong with the location itself. Rather, she loved being here. The delicate assembly of the seats and balconies, the padding used for the walls, the expert design of the flooring and ceiling, it was all so wonderful. It was here that she so often played her cello, in practice and performance.

It was a truly honest statement to say it was as close to perfection as reality allowed. The careful choice of material for every section of the hall kept the vibrato to a minimum, allowing every note, chord, and verse to be heard as clear a sound as the musician felt playing it.

So often Octavia would find herself playing on the stage alone, watching the empty red-padded seats, imagining the hall full to capacity as she danced across the strings with her bow. She would let the music carry her up, feel her head rise with shut eyes, as if to blindly adore the high ceiling, immaculately carved and secured with the design of an eclipsed sun.

From where she was currently sitting, she could clearly see her usual spot, first chair and the head of the section. It was no different than any other seat upon the stage, not in size or shape or color, but it was where it was located that made all the difference. Namely, that it was located up on the stage, and she, Octavia, was sitting in the pews of the audience. She was where the audience would usually sit, and she was wearing the long coat and top hat that hid her features, not the bowtie she preferred to adorn for performances.

Octavia hid, in every sense of the word, from something she loved.

She was in front of the Orchestra, the Canterlot Orchestra that she loved to be a part of, in complete disguise from her fellow musicians. She was in front of her colleagues, her friends, her career and joy, and hiding herself like a foal refusing to look an elder in the eye.

Octavia listened as the percussionists set up their drums and toms, aligning them for maximizing the carry of notes without drowning the subtlety of the strings. She listened as the brass section organized their trombones and trumpets, assembling the chairs with well-practiced ease. And of course, she listened as the strings organized their instruments by size, the small fiddles in the front to the giant basses in the back.

What Octavia wanted to do was wave to them, to join them, to talk to them about everything that had happened to her over the past few months. But she couldn’t, or, more properly, wouldn’t, at least not yet. She was resigned to watch them for now, hiding beneath colorful cloth and pretend that she didn’t know each of their names, their talents, and the music they loved to play. It was not a complete loss, however. She was still going to listen to the Orchestra, at least pretend for a time that she was a part of them again.

At least she’d like to, but three very important details kept even that simple imagination from happening.

Number one, her fellow guests surrounded her in the audience.

Number two, the collection of barbaric drums and guitars being added to the orchestra.

And number three, the events that had brought her here.

It was after she named all the offending realities that she realized why none of the Orchestra members had recognized her. It was rather hard to see a mare’s face while it was buried in her hooves. She didn’t have to look to see all of the problems with her ideal scenario of listening to the Orchestra.

There was a DJ with a neon mane sitting just to her right, just behind her was a silly pegasus with walled-eyes, another mare with a Stetson hat and blue bandana was leaning in the seat just in front of her, and far in front of them, sitting in the front row, were a pair of princesses, shining with regalia, their white and lavender coats glittering like a freshly polished cello.

“They’re doin’ an awful lot o’ work just ta get them notes flyin’.” The rurally accented voice of Fiddlesticks spoke from in front of Octavia. It was close to her, but that was probably the fault of the mare leaning back in her seat almost far enough to be in the gray alicorn’s lap. “Ah mean Ah get why it’s takin’ a country hour, but couldn’t they’ve done this ‘fore we got here?”

“Got that right Sticks,” Vinyl spoke from beside Octavia. Said gray mare didn’t need to look to know that her friend was wearing her signature grin as she spoke, probably nodding her head as well. No, definitely. “Can’t get the dancefloor rockin’ till that music’s blasting! Who invites the party before the speakers are ready?”

“Darn tootin’!” Octavia heard a quick clap just in front of her, likely the country mare and DJ slappin hooves together. She bit back a groan. This was not how proper mares were meant to act at the Orchestra.

“But where’s the food?” The innocent and slightly confused question came from behind the gray mare. Octavia resisted the urge pull her coat over her face. “If this is a party, there should be food. Dinky would love it if I brought her back some sweets.” Vinyl’s snickering almost made Octavia groan. Almost. She settled for digging her hooves deeper into her face, hoping to bury herself deeper as if her large coat was slacking at its job.

“Shoot darlin’, if Ah knew ya wanted some grub, ya should’a asked me early on.” Octavia heard Fiddlesticks adjust her seat, likely turning around to gaze at the bright-maned pegasus. “We had a good few hours till we got here, ‘n that castle o’ the sister’s wasn’t lackin’ in goodies to nibble on.”

“Oh I know, but Mr. Discord said this was like a party.” Octavia did not mishear the pouting tone in Ditzy’s words. “And desserts are the best part of parties. You can take them home as a reminder of how much fun you had. Then eat them.”

“That last part sounds more important to me.” Vinyl spoke up again. “But speaking of important things, why are you still hidin’ yourself Octy? Feelin’ shy on us?” Octavia felt her face flush, but it was more of anger than embarrassment. Vinyl had a way to incite both feelings from her with relative ease.

“I’m just….” Octavia spoke quietly from behind her hooves, searching for the best words to say. “Trying to cope.”

“Aw, cope?” Her best friend questioned, leaning in until Octavia felt the unicorn’s invasion of her privacy like the mane on her neck; far too close for any form of comfort. “But Luna and Discord said that you were the one who got this goin’. What’s there to cope with getting what you want?”

“Rude as Vinyl tends ta be,” Fiddlesticks spoke up, her voice rustic as ever. “She ain’t wrong in questionin’ that. Ain’t this where ya usually want ta be? Ya did mention it a time or two back at the orchard.”

“Oh, and you sounded so happy when Princess Luna said she was going to play with them!” Ditzy’s voice had taken noticeable upswing, in both pitch and volume. She was excited about something, like Vinyl with candy… or cider. “You kept saying she was really good at playing the piano and that it was a true art… or did you say that she was a work of art?”

She was wrong before. Octavia was very sure her blush was of embarrassment.

“Aw, give the gal a break. It ain’t every sunrise ya get ta see the mare ya admire in her element.” Fiddle’s words defended Octavia’s wholly uncomfortable predicament, but she could still sense the grin stretched across the apple mare’s face. “Mores the point, Ah’m impressed tha’ we got here a’tall. It ain’t every day the veritable ‘Lord a Chaos’ comes ta whisken ya up, leave it be for a music piece.” Octavia was further thankful to hear the mocking tone Fiddle adorned to Discord’s title. She felt glad knowing the mare had a similar attitude toward the draconequus. Specifically, a negative one.

“And Princess Luna was so kind in asking me to come,” Ditzy spoke up after the yellow doppelganger. “She arranged for a sitter for Dinky, got her dinner ready, and everything! Oh, I just wish we had more time to talk before we had to go. Maybe I could have gotten something to eat then…”

“Wasn’t too bad for me. Hardest part was convincing myself to come here.” Vinyl let out bluntly, with the same honesty that Octavia held prideful in herself. Pride was such an overrated and unusual emotion, she realized. “But when I heard Octy here needed a few friends for the crowd, how could I resist?”

Octavia dropped her hooves as she felt her friend’s leg wrap around her back, pulling her in for a quick hug. It was short and sudden enough to nearly make her wings explode from beneath her jacket. She had to thank Ditzy once more for her lessons, else they likely would have. But when the shock passed and her annoyance returned once more, Octavia saw it fitting to speak honestly to her friend in turn.

“Not that I think ill of your intent to help me, but I believe it was the promise of Discord’s music that persuaded you to come.” The hidden alicorn allowed herself a small grin, unseen by the others thanks to her attire. But, as it always was, Vinyl returned with her own overdone expression of joy.

“Well yeah, of course that helped! How often do you hear a dude like that make music?” Vinyl waved her hoof to the stage, to where said draconequus was standing, his back facing them with a black conductors coat across his long, lithe frame.

Octavia had to relent on that point. She was not aware of the kind of music Discord would prefer to listen to, if it was even considered music at all. For a random creature such as he, it was just as likely he would take the cacophony of chortling shrieking monkeys as the epitome of art. The evidence she had against such a theory was his joy, not misery, on being told to use the Canterlot Orchestra. That was an order from Princess Luna, the mare Octavia was glad she chose to help with this performance.

Though it seemed odd, Octavia had decided that to ask anyone else other than Luna would not be wise. As was usually the case with Discord, to help orchestrate a collection of instruments in short time, music included, and deal with the draconequus at the same time seemed too much of a task for a less-qualified individual. It served more of a point and secure reason to have the Master of Chaos and the Symbol of Order work together. She held no illusions that when Discord agreed he probably had an ulterior motive up one of his sleeves, proverbial or not, but she trusted him just enough to not ruin the music the Orchestra and Luna would create.

That was what Octavia had thought, until he quite literally popped Drifter into existence.

Conjuring the single-winged stallion in front of himself without a moment’s notice stunned Luna and Octavia as greatly as it had terrified Drifter. Octavia could still recall clearly the exact moment the pegasus had fainted… for the first time. It had taken near a dozen wakings and subsequent faintings to keep him conscious. It was only on the promise of Luna that he was in no way in danger that he managed to stay awake, though his fear was still as evident as the sun on a cloudless day.

“Ah’m just waitin’ ta see what that stick of a pegasus does.” Fiddle spoke again, breaking Octavia from her reverie of memory. “Nice stal’ and all, but the colt’s got about as much pride in his chest as he does meat on his bones.” To emphasize her point, the apple farmer beat one of her forelegs against the other, emphasizing the power in her limbs. Octavia looked down at her own, realizing another area she and her doppelganger were mismatched.

Octavia was just barely in shape, more due to the flight practice Ditzy and Luna had given her than any actual regiment for exercise. Fiddle, on the other hoof, was fit as, well, a fiddle. Octavia was grateful she had not spoken the thought aloud.

“Drifter is a nice pony,” Octavia heard Ditzy replied from behind her, words coming out like a pouting child. She turned to see the gray pegasus, only to find the mare’s mismatched eyes furrowed and snout scrunched in disappointment. Even her hooves were folded over.

“He’s just like me.”

The words had an immediate and jarring impact. Fiddle flew around, white hat nearly sailing from her mane as a look of terror took over her features. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape, and muscles stiff. Shock was the optimal word for it. Even Vinyl had whipped her head back to the pegasus, shades near falling from her snout. Octavia took it in stride.

She knew Ditzy well and she knew there was no malice in the pegasus’s words, just as there was no hamper in her flight. True, she likely saw some sort of similarity between her and the blue pegasus, both ponies of the sky and both challenged unfairly in some way. But where most ponies would see Ditzy as defensive of her misaligned eye, Octavia knew better.

But then, as Octavia expected of her now, Vinyl came to Fiddle’s unneeded rescue.

“Hey now Ditzy,” Vinyl spoke the pegasus name, as opposed to the offensive title she conjured a few hours ago. “Fiddle didn’t mean anything like that. She was just sayin’ he probably couldn’t handle working in the apple field like the rest of the stallions she knows. Kind of hard to see a stallion as attractive if he can’t even lift his own weight. I mean, how else is he going to lift y-”

“He is going to be a valuable addition to the Orchestra, I’m sure.” Octavia interrupted Vinyl when she heard in what direction the unicorn’s two track mind was drifting, and it wasn’t to music. Octavia smiled kindly at Ditzy before she spoke on. “And it is like Luna said. Discord, for all of his machinations, would not bring a pony to perform were they not ready in some way. Discord wants to entertain us… in his own way, but not disappoint us.”

The gray alicorn was thankful to see a beaming smile take over the golden-eyed pegasus, stretching wide and deep along her cheeks. It was accompanied by an equally deep sigh from the unicorn and earth pony. She heard them adjust their respective apparels before righting themselves in their seat.

“Yeah,” Vinyl let out. “And the big bad over there got the perfect pegasus for the job. I mean last time I saw Drifter he was shredding down the guitar like a pro.” Octavia watched as Ditzy’s smile fell and misguided eyes screwed. It was not of malice, but her puckered lips showed confusion.

“Why would Drifter try and shred a guitar? Is he getting a new one?” The question made the gray alicorn smile lightly, more out of appreciation for the flabbergasted expression it earned from the alabaster unicorn.

“Huh? Wha?” Vinyl let out, shaking her head lightly before outright thrashing it. Her neon locks aggressively beat left and right. It was amazing that her glasses didn’t go flying away. “No no no no no, shredding means he’s playing notes at lightspeed, like really fast. The dude cares too much about so much that he wouldn’t even waste a rotten apple.” That got the attention of another mare.

“Not even tha’?” Fiddle perked up at the statement, adjusting her white hat as she leaned further back in her chair, looking at Vinyl through the lavender shades. “What’s he do with ‘em then? There ain’t much a city slickin’ pony like him can do with a too ripe fruit.” Honestly, Octavia though that Vinyl was just throwing out another one of her ridiculous yet oddly accurate metaphors. Judging by the signature smile she put over her lips, however, she soon began to figure otherwise.

“I wouldn’t put Drifter in the city unless I had to, Fiddle,” Vinyl lightly spoke back before leaning over the seat in front of her. She crossed her forehooves over the red material, looking at the yellow earth pony with a sideward glance. “He’s got his own garden goin’ back out by his house, least he did last I saw him. I remember him throwing a set of brown bananas into a compost bin before we headed out to a set. I’ll tell ya, that blue pegasus is an entirely different pony when he’s on the stage.”

Octavia watched as the trio of mares looked up to the stage, currently in the final stages of preparation. All of the Orchestra chairs were ready, larger and bulkier instruments as well. A few of the string section members had already taken their seats, but the percussion section was simply waiting patiently while the brass just began to fill their own. It was taking longer, Octavia supposed, due to the equally bulky drums, guitars, and basses that were being arranged around the sections.

Drifter, the single-winged pegasus Octavia had met once before yet heard of thrice so far, was nervously dotting over each instrument, inspecting one with his hooves and wing before jumping over to another, speaking what the alicorn assumed were apologies to each pony he passed. None of her fellow musicians gave him an evil eye, but then again, none were so kind as to help him set up. That much did unnerve her.

She was thankful Princess Luna was not like the rest of her Orchestra. Ah yes, Luna, wearing something so far from her usual regalia that at first glance Octavia was breathless. No crystal jewelry was hung from her neck or was strapped to her hooves. No crown on her head and no guards that she could see. No, the Princess of the Night was dressed formally, yet still modestly.

She wore a pianist’s coat, complete with long coattails that split where her own sparkling blue tail extended. White cufflinks were extended down her forelegs, ending early enough to reveal her professionally manicured hooves. Octavia couldn’t make it out from the distance she was at, but she knew from her early encounter the cufflinks Luna wore. She was still having a hard time believing.

Purple Treble Clefs, matching by mirror in design.

Luna had said it was to be fair for Octavia, whom had insisted on playing the sparkling blue and lavishly finished cello. Were Octavia to play a so obviously personified instrument, Luna felt it fair to wear a symbol of the gray alicorn as well. It was likely due to the shock that Octavia was unable to voice that Luna would be playing to an audience far before Octavia would.

She took back her far previous thought. She was hiding her in her hooves because of embarrassment. It wasn’t often royalty complimented you in the way that Luna had.

“So, makin’ sure I got this right,” Vinyl began, leaning into Octavia as she pointed her hoof at the stage. “We got the Princess of the Night hitting the keys, a spineless but master guitarist settin’ up the good stuff, the rest of your pals handling the background noise, and Big Bad the Spirit telling them all what to do.”

“Yes, Vinyl, that is essentially correct,” Octavia spoke as she pinched the bridge of her snout with both hooves, hiding her eyes beneath them. “As you were so keen to scream and shout back at the castle, we are witnessing what will likely never happen again.” Octavia let out a sigh as she spoke the words.

It dawned on her earlier how significant this really was. Though her somewhat harsh words towards her neon-maned friend summed up what was about to occur, it did not deter the impact of knowing it was about to happen right in front of them.

True, when she consented to Discord that she would enjoy his paw and claw in orchestrating an event for her magic, she believed it would have been more spontaneous than what this appeared to be. Despite and in spite of the instruments, mixing on stage like oil and water, there was surprising amount of care going into their arrangement. That was likely the draconequus’ point.

However, after Discord dropped Drifter into the room, to the shock of near all present, Octavia had to settle the limitation that Luna helped. To be more accurate, she near begged the Lunar Princess to help, Octavia’s trust swinging far closer to the dark alicorn than the copiously compiled spirit. The elder mare was only too happy to volunteer to help, agreeing that the two working together would be the most efficient way to move Octavia forward.

That was another thought she didn’t like lamenting over, but one she was now forced to too often.

All of this was being done for her. Not while she was around, not because she was invited, but for the specific and intentionally purpose of both entertaining and testing her. While she was familiar with the parties her parents would throw for her birthday or celebrations for small life events, but this was on a scale far larger than all of them combined.

This… this felt like it was meant to be reserved for dignitaries of foreign lands, for the alicorn sisters themselves following the celebration of an eclipse, for the tribute of a great pony near the end of their life, or any other number of things on the grand scale. For her… a mare thrust into an extraordinary situation by extra normal means… it almost felt wrong.

“Careful Tavi, your self-pity’s showing.”

It took only those words from her friend to shake Octavia from her thoughts. She jolted in her seat, earning a surprised squeak from Ditzy behind, likely shocked by the sudden movements. Even Fiddle raised the brim of her hat at the display, more of curiosity than shock. Octavia herself had the visage of accusation in her eyes as she glared daggers at her friend. They didn’t pierce the thick coating of Vinyl’s lavender shades.

“Pardon me, Vinyl Scratch,” she spoke the DJ’s name for emphasis. “But I was not sinking into self-pity. I was only thinking about the circumstances that brought me to this moment. It would be hard for anypony to deny that the previous few months of my life have been anything but normal.” Though her gaze was focused on Vinyl, it was another one of her friends, more recent companions, that spoke next.

“Those sound like a lotta fancy words, but they’re as see-through ‘s Tart’s scarf after a summer’s day in th’ orchard.” Octavia looked forward and down, seeing Fiddle leaning back to look her in the eyes. The doppelganger had her own smirk now. Though not as prominent as Vinyl’s, it was hard to miss. “But don’t worry none about yer life strayin’ from normal. To have a bit ‘a flavor in life, now that’s a good thing.”

Octavia didn’t answer immediately, still catching up on the long metaphor Fiddlesticks had used to describe her quick speech to Vinyl. It sounded as if the mare was accusing her of lying, but that couldn’t be it. Octavia hated lying.

“Well yes… variety is necessary,” Octavia tentatively spoke, hoping she was jumping on the right train of thought. There was little else more awkward in a conversation than speaking of something that had already left the station.

“But if I may speak of my own thoughts, I was talking of how my life has... deviated from what I hoped it to be. That is not self-pity. Just… sad reminiscence I suppose.” Octavia sighed, head dropping and hat near falling from her head. Only her hidden horn kept it on. “I simply wished things would have stayed as they were for a tad bit longer.”

“But if things never changed, there would be no butterflies.”

For the second time in as many moments, the eyes of the mares turned to Ditzy. Before, it was out of sudden fear for insulting the mare for what should never be spoken of. This time, it was out of wonder, though with just as much shock.

Fiddle had pushed her hat up, eyes squinting at the gold-maned pegasus. She was regarding the mare two rows back as if she were a new kind of apple tree. Vinyl was much the same, but adjusted a different form of apparel. Her hoof was on the bridge of her shades, pulling them down just enough to let her lavender irises peak out. They looked at Ditzy with a wide gaze. Octavia herself had her lips shut, eyes focused, and ears perked. She only nodded in slow understanding.

“What?” Ditzy asked as the silence dragged on. “It’s what I tell my Dinky. She’s always scared that something will happen and we’ll have to move or she’ll lose a friend or she’ll stop liking strawberry muffins. Just because something changes doesn’t mean it’s bad. It just means it’s not the same.” The pegasus was playing with her hooves, clearly not comfortable, let alone used to, being the sudden center of attention.

“You know, kind of like me!” Ah, there she was, the honest pegasus with a heart that matched her mane; golden, long, and shining. Her bright smile, wide enough to force her eyes shut, beamed down upon Octavia. The gray alicorn could not help but smile in return.

“Leave it ta a pegasus ta see the obvious,” Fiddle mumbled out, scratching at her brow. “Course things have to change. Ain’t no way ‘round that. Probably the one area ya’ll agree with Discord, am I right?” Octavia turned from Ditzy to face forwards, looking down at Fiddle once more. She had her own grin, a grin that seemed odd on a face so much like Octavia’s own.

She was right, however. There were few areas that Octavia would find herself agreeing with the mad god. It had taken only a total of day’s worth of time for her to figure that one out. No decorum, no subtlety, no care for personal space, not even a filter to keep him from speaking aloud his more… questionable observations.

Wrapped altogether, it was easy to see why he and Vinyl had such a strong connection.

Octavia bit back a moan as she regretfully remembered Discord’s introduction to Vinyl, shortly after scooping the mare from their shared home. While Octavia held little worry that the DJ would be able to handle herself, what she did not expect was the outright joy she had for simply being able to speak with Discord. It was disconcerting in many more ways than Octavia believed she could have counted.

Ditzy came upon Luna’s request, the latter believing the honesty of the former was something that would be greatly needed in Discord’s long-term presence. Fiddle was grabbed by Discord, for there were no other words Octavia could use to describe the way the draconequus brought the apple farmer to Canterlot. What was more, he said he did it only to see the reason Octavia had traveled so far from home. The answer felt like a half-truth, so it likely was. Fiddle was noticeably shaken, wearing a face Octavia was sure perfectly mirrored her own from her first teleportation, but recovered far faster than she had. The gray alicorn had written it off as her superior fitness.

Vinyl, however, was the mare that Octavia knew she wanted to be with her through the coming events. No other pony in all of the land adapted to new situations quite like her friend, as being the first witness to Octavia’s… transformation and subsequent meeting with the princesses was evidence of. Still, Octavia had assumed that she would merely have to go fetch her friend, ask for her help shortly after her latest performance in whatever hovel she played in. Even Princess Luna spoke that it was a wise decision and spoke of informing her guards of the arrival.

But no, that would have been too simple for Discord’s taste. He had to pop around and find the DJ, whisking her away with whatever arbitrary or broad statement for his reasons the draconequus conjured in the moment. Of course he had to do what would absolutely terrify any other mare, stallion, or foal.

But then, just to add to the inanity of the situation, it only made just as much sense for Vinyl to be excited about the whole thing. Octavia couldn’t recall if she was shocked still or groaning in annoyance when her friend started cheering, popping into existence via Discord’s magic. Knowing her friend as well as she did, it was very likely the latter.

What followed next was a combination of the usual and the inane. With Octavia’s simple request for both the help of the Lunar Princess and Mad God, a plan for how to get Octavia to practice her newfound magical tendencies started to spin. She contributed minimally, though not for any lack of effort on the Princess’s or Vinyl’s part.

No, it was just that there was very little for her to contribute aside from opinion. She did not possess the boundless magic or imagination as Discord, nor did she have the pull and political sway like Princess Luna. She was a cellist, no matter her wings or horn, with little influence in the world.

“You’re doing it again.”

The words made Octavia blink. She turned to her friend… and nearly pulled back instantly. Vinyl was not put a hair’s length away from her, her lavender shades nearly encompassing all of Octavia’s vision. The unicorn’s brow was furrowed, buried beneath the rims of her lenses. Even her signature grin was hidden away, unseen beneath the frown on her lips.

“Doing what?” Octavia questioned in turn. The question only made the unicorn’s frown a near scowl. There was nothing malicious in it. More like… annoyed. It was still an odd expression to see Vinyl demonstrate.

“Whenever you start thinkin’ the wrong way, you get this really bad look on your face.” Octavia felt her mouth open at the statement. True, she slipped into thought often, but she hardly considered that she would ever wear a… trademark look while doing so. Her parents had taught her better than that. And thinking the “wrong” way?

“Pardon me Vinyl, but I believe my way of thinking is more correct than yours.” She knew she sounded superior, she knew she sounded high and mighty. But to be damned was she if she was going to let Vinyl tell her she was thinking wrong of all things.

“There’s nothing right about thinking that you’re not worth something.”

This time Ditzy and Fiddle saw fit to simply watch the conversation. Though Octavia did not turn her eye to them, she saw Fiddle’s hat turn and adjust itself followed closely by Ditzy’s near glowing gold mane wave at her tilted head. Vinyl paid them as much mind as the hidden alicorn. In truth, Octavia would have offered them at least a glance in recognition, but her wide gaze was locked too hard with DJ’s opaque lavender glasses.

It shocked Octavia, in all honesty, how much her friend’s words stung. Vinyl was not a mare that would lie, ever in fact. Octavia recognized long ago that her neon-maned friend preferred brutal honesty over sweet lies any day of the week and month of the year. Now Octavia only found herself loathing the position her friend’s words put her in.

“Look Octy, I get why you’re nervous,” Vinyl spoke on at Octavia’s prolonged silence. “Got two princesses and a bonafide god settin’ up one messed up concert for you. That isn’t somethin’ every mare gets to brag about. But,” she stopped momentarily, long enough to point her hoof at Octavia’s face. They were already so close, Octavia found herself leaning over the seat to her left just to have room between her and her friend. “I recognize that face of yours. You wear every time you come back from some recital or practice or audition from who knows where. You even had it last time you went to see your parents.”

“Vinyl,” Octavia spoke up, hoping she hit the perfect amount of bite in her voice. She saw no reaction through her friend’s lenses. “You’re reading too far into a few of my stray thoughts.”

“Actually, Ah gotta side with Scratch on this one.” Octavia’s brow rose high enough that she was surprised her hat didn’t fly off. She turned to her front, seeing Fiddle just in time for her yellow coated doppelganger to lower the brim of her hat over her own eyes, hiding them from view. The straight lips on her features, however, were more than evident.

“Fiddlesticks,” Octavia spoke the mare’s name, a sort of surprise in her tone. She hoped it sounded more breathless than petrified. “What… I beg your pardon, but what do you mean?”

“Ya spent just shy a week’s end with us girl,” Fiddle clarified the length of her stay, clearly for a future point. “And that was just a day ago tops. Dawn ta dusk, in the orchard or on the porch, Ah ain’t never once heard you mutter even a word of worth ‘bout yourself. Don’t get me wrong, you’re the orchard’s length away from some cryin’ foal, but self-confidence ain’t exactly yer middle name.”

Octavia thought that was the most shocking thing she had heard all day, at least until the music started. It turns out, as she should have expected by now, she was wrong.

“They do have a point, a sharp one too.” Octavia couldn’t even bring herself to turn around and face Ditzy. She settled for just letting her head loll onto the back of her cushioned seat, letting her wide eyes stare at the mural high above on the ceiling. Fortunately or not, the sight-impaired pegasus leaned over to face her instead.

“I mean, it’s not a bad thing to think you can improve. I tell my Dinky that she should always try and be better, but I never heard you say you were confident. You were so proud of Princess Luna, of classical music, and so many other things, but you never said you were proud of yourself. If my Dinky never said she was happy with herself, I’d be really sad.” Octavia wasn’t sure, not with her mind shocked to a state near catatonic, but she felt the gray pegasus was somehow asking her if her parent’s really cared about her. She thought that was a part of Ditzy’s speech, but again, she could barely string together the joint agreement that she was something she absolutely was not.

Unconfident.

She was Octavia Melody, First Chair of the Canterlot Orchestra Cellos, First Born and Proud daughter of the Melody Family, self-reliant and strong. Those were the things Octavia would use to describe herself, were she ever asked.

She wasn’t unconfident. She simply recognized the vast difference between her place in the world thus far and those that she interacted with. There was no fault or self-deprecation in that. One would hardly call the ponies who worked for Princess Celestia to be miserable. Why was she any different for thinking that way about Princess Luna?

“Up, there she goes again.”

Octavia frowned as she heard her friend chime in this time. She didn’t offer Vinyl her gaze. Instead she pinched the bridge of her snout. Ah, yes, this was how she looked when her hooves covered her face out of annoyance. It was slightly different than embarrassment.

“Are you unhappy, Octavia?” The gray alicorn heard the motherly tone from the mare behind her. It was cute, in all honestly, except when it was being used on her. Now it sat somewhere between condescending and disturbing. “If there is something bothering you, you can tell me… us. We’ll understand, I promise.” Motherly indeed.

“Yeah, we’re all friends around the levee,” Fiddle spoke up, wearing a grin Octavia couldn’t help but think was incomplete. It took her a moment to realize she needed a piece of straw sticking from her lips to appear as rustic as her yellow-coated twin was. “Ya can tell us what’s pokin’ in ta yer side.”

“C’mon Tavi,” Vinyl affectionately spoke the second nickname for the gray alicorn. It was no more welcome than her first. “We got some more time to kill before that royal jam session starts up. I can’t think of a better way to spend it then proving you wrong.” It was so odd, Octavia realized, how much affection and teasing was wrapped up in those words.

The hidden alicorn sighed, feeling the hat on her slink down over her eyes. Her jacket felt heavier, though she knew nothing was added to it. A part of her supposed it was her finally realizing the weight she had on her shoulders, but the more literal part dismissed it. Still, she was surrounded by… friends, as Fiddle had spoken of them. She only knew each of them for such a short amount of time, Vinyl aside, but did they really consider her a friend?

She looked down at Fiddle, who was still leaning back with a wry grin up towards her. Octavia turned back and looked at Ditzy, her wall-eyes managing to be charming above her bright and near glowing smile. She finally settled on Vinyl, and was surprised to see the DJ’s lenses lowered. They gave the alicorn a clear look at her friend’s dark lavender eyes, eyes that grinned like the smirk on her lips. Octavia didn’t need to see the smirk to know it. She was so expressive with herself that simply being near the unicorn made it clear what she was feeling. Octavia sighed as she looked down at her lap.

“I don’t believe I am worth this much effort.” She finally spoke clearly, feeling both miserable and relieved as the words left her. She didn’t need to look at her companions to know their expressions ranged from shocked to appalled. “I am but one mare in a unique predicament. I am not cursed, nor am I wounded or near death. Yet, I have been given the aide of the princess’s, privileges above most nobles, and even special circumstances for the events around me. I am not worth this. I want to be, but… I have not made myself worth this yet.”

For a time, the only noise amongst the group was the soft testing of instruments from the stage. A few keys being played on the piano, strings being pulled and tightened, the brass of trumpets cleaned, and the drums tested for their integrity. But amongst the mares, there was not a sound. That was, until the most expected mare broke the silence.

“That’s crap.” Octavia would have expected nothing less from her DJ friend. Apparently, however, Ditzy thought differently.

“Vinyl Scratch,” the gray pegasus spoke in a reprimanding voice. It sounded odd coming from a mare so warm and motherly. “That’s not a nice thing to say. Octavia was very brave to tell us that.” The alicorn felt her chest warm at the words. Ditzy truly was a maternal mare.

“Doesn’t mean it’s any different than crap.” Vinyl responded back, completing her thought with a snort. The alicorn could practically feel the heat from Ditzy’s glare, and it wasn’t even directed at her.

“Can’t say ya’ll are thinkin’ the wrong way,” Fiddle began, twisting in her chair and momentarily adjusting the vest on her back. “Except you Octavia. There ain’t nothin’ right about thinkin’ bad. Good news is, Ah know which trail ta send ya down.” The fiddle player pointed a hoof at the gray alicorn, her smirk no less present than before.

“And which way is that, may I ask?” Octavia was glad she understood the meaning behind the rustic mare’s cryptic words. It meant she would be getting out of this conversation that much sooner.

“Darlin’, ya gotta think of it this way,” Fiddle paused from her speech, most likely to give emphasis to what came next. “Stop thinkin’ of what you’re worth, and start imaginin’ what ya want ta do. Cause worship the words ‘er not, that’s how ponies think. Just think of Princess Luna. Do ya think she had ta help ya out?”

The question momentarily startled Octavia. Mostly because she truly didn’t know. The wry smirk on Fiddle’s maw said she had an idea of the true answer.

“Truth is, she doesn’t. Ain’t no mare or stallion gotta do anything. She’s helpin’ ya cause she wants to. She’s doin it, Octavia.” The mare stopped again, this time to push her fore hoof into Octavia’s exposed underbelly. The mare was going to voice a complaint, but Fiddle’s words beat her to the punch. Given their impact, it felt almost literal.

“She’s helpin’ ya because she wants you.”

With those words, Octavia’s face bloomed.

“Whoa-ho-ho-ho!” Vinyl let out with an increasing level of cheer in her voice. Octavia’s eyes were too well hidden beneath her hooves. When had they gotten there?

Oh, right, soon after her coat changed from gray to maroon. It didn’t help that her entire body felt stifled, the heavy jacket along her back only making it worse. She was sweating even, but that was because of the heat… surely.

“What’s wrong? Ah’m just callin’ out what I see. Who wouldn’t want ta give the poor mare a bit of a helpin’ hoof?” The words did not stifle Vinyl’s laughter. They only, without a doubt, made it worse. If the DJ doubling over herself, very near falling from her seat with laughter, was not evident enough, than the gray pegasus giggling behind her was more than definitely enough.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha! Ah-Ah helping hoof?!” Vinyl was nearly shouting through her laughter, hunched over in her red seat with her hooves over her gut. “I’m sure that’s just what Octy wants from her. Just one great big hoof!”

Octavia momentarily confused herself for Princess Celestia. She felt as ungodly warm and out of place as she was sure the solar princess usually was. With her hooves covering her eyes, hat cover her head, and jacket over the rest of herself, the mare doubted the situation could become much worse, not with the princesses already nearby.

It was only to justify the gray mare’s worries when Fiddle didn’t understand Vinyl’s jeering or Ditzy’s amusement.

“‘Course that’s what the girl needs,” replied Fiddle, obliviously, to the cackling unicorn. “Who wouldn’t want that from the princess?”

Octavia was a proud mare, but she was almost crying real tears of shame. She was certain Vinyl was already bawling, though their reasons could not have been more opposite.

It was only made worse when she heard Ditzy finally joining the neon maned unicorn in laughter. How did Ditzy, the most oblivious mare in their small group, understood the joke of Viny’s words before the country mare did? Maybe it was a maternal thing.

She started in the theatre with her hooves over her eyes, concluding that it was out of embarrassment for her friends and their actions. Somehow, despite all the many jumps in conversations they had, it felt like she was back at square one. And yet, she felt as if she were miles ahead.

Ah, c’est la vie.

When the cackling and howling laughter was heard from the audience seats, a great many members of the Orchestra stopped to see what was so amusing. Amongst those numbers was the Lunar Princess herself, her piano already prepared and tuned. Through her billowing mane, she saw it to be Octavia’s night-dwelling friend, DJ Vinyl Scratch.

The princess had to admit, she though she usually saw the unicorn expressing herself to large and often exaggerated degrees, the chortling laughter she threw out now was a bit… over the top. She didn’t need to turn to see Discord also observing the diverse quartet, his grin seemingly made of malleable plaster. Luna, however, was more focused on the mare responsible for her upcoming performance.

Octavia was ducking beneath her hat and coat, hiding much of herself from her friends and everything from the Orchestra players. Not an unusual action given that majority of the players on the stage with the princess were familiar with their first chair cellist. But still, the princess would have preferred to see the young alicorn to be a bit more… excited about the song.

Her cerulean eyes looked to her sister, regal and magnificent, as she always seemed to be. Her elder’s pink eyes gazed back at her, smiling knowingly. Luna grinned in return. Luna’s gaze drifted softly to Twilight Sparkle, the one-time protégée of her sister, now fully recognized Princess of Friendship. Despite her title, however, her appearance resembled that of a foal eagerly awaiting their story.

The once-unicorn had accomplished much before her reign, of that no one could deny. What was only more impressive was what she did following her coronation. It took much effort to impress the Lunar Princess, yet the young Element of Magic had done just that, near time and time again.

For a length of time longer than Luna would care to admit, she had thought that Twilight would be the only mare to ever truly impress her, likely the reason Celestia took such a liking to her. Few other ponies were as dedicated as she, and even fewer still had the intelligence to match. It only made sense that she would strive for the impossible, and just as logically complete it.

That was what Luna thought, until she met one Octavia Melody.

She still clearly recalled the gray mare entering her court, wearing the same coat and tall hat she adorned now. Also the same as now, her brightly maned friend accompanied her, wearing enough confidence to make up for the clear trepidation the gray alicorn once had. It was a surprise to Luna, seeing another alicorn so unexpectedly, but she knew now it was a blessing in disguise.

Octavia saw Luna as her hope in a hopeless situation.

Luna saw Octavia as her chance for redemption.

So many mares and stallions had been kind to Luna upon her return, happy to see her and eager to meet her, but so few saw her for any more than that. A favor perhaps from her court, advice in realm of politics, but near everything came back to her role as a princess, never for the mare that she was. Octavia was the first to require exactly that.

Luna didn’t advise Octavia, she taught her. She didn’t send the young and frightened mare off on errands, she taught her tasks and regiment. Octavia was her student, and that was something Luna had never had before.

She was patient with the young cellist, waiting for her to be ready for every next step, learning with Octavia as she herself taught. That patience was rewarded faster than she thought it would be. It was mere weeks, not months, before Octavia began warm to her presence. It was just a month, not years, before her title was dropped entirely.

Without any guidance or request, they became simply Luna and Octavia to one another, no longer princess and plebe.

That same dark alicorn, dressed now in a pianist’s coat, adjusted the cuffs at the end of her hooves. Rare were the times she ventured from the castle without her regalia, rarer still were the moments she would show her art, not just her magic, to the world. Octavia had changed that, out of request and necessity. Luna was all the more willing to help.

She watched as the source of her growing joy finally lifted her head from her hooves, pushing her neon-maned friend in a manner that was thoughtfully playful. She saw Ditzy behind her put on a worried look, but the chuckling of one Fiddle Sticks made the mood far lighter. Of course, it did help that Vinyl was grinning like Discord after one of his tricks. Luna gave the other mares only sparing glances. Her eyes were on the hidden gray alicorn.

Though her face was flushed with what was likely embarrassment, Luna did not pretend to see the smile that was pulling on the younger mare’s features. She wanted to see her wings spread wide, enjoying the strength they had gained. She wanted to see her horn stand long and tall, showing the magic she was capable of.

She wanted Octavia to be proud, proud like Luna was proud of her.

But she was thinking too quickly, she realized with a small snort and shake of her head. She was fortunate alone that Octavia had grown used to her company, them seeing one another as more than their titles or strengths. Patience had rewarded her once, so she could wait again. Luna only had to ensure her patience was not idle.

For now, it was kind to Luna’s heart to see Octavia and her friends laughing so well together. She had to wonder momentarily what was so amusing. With Ditzy within their numbers, she knew it was far from the expense of any pony. In truth though, the reason mattered little, at least to Luna.

What truly mattered was that Octavia was accepting who she was. Acceptance was key, but pride was the goal. Luna smiled as she watched Octavia once more. She would get there soon, the Lunar Princess was confident of it.

“Uh, no-no, that shouldn’t go there, no acoustic, that’s not balanced.” Luna’s musings and voyeurism was sidetracked by the nervous voice, muttering beside her. It took only a glance for her cerulean eyes to fall on another blue coated pony, though far smaller than her in size and missing one horn and one wing. She approached him carefully, already noting more than once his nervous attitude.

“Are you feeling alright?” Princess Luna asked the single-winged pegasus. She only raised a brow as he nearly jumped from his skin. His eyes were wide when they focused on her, despite having met her already, near a day ago in fact. It was an unfortunate fact that Luna was used to such hesitation in her presence. “Do you have parasprites?”

“H-Huh? What?” Drifter immediately returned, his voice far higher in pitch than Luna suspected it naturally was. “I-I don’t understand your highness-no, your grac-no no, your majesty.” Luna took in a deep breath of air at his luckless rambling.

She hid her disappointment with herself, as she likely spoke the expression wrong. She was sure that hesitation was compared to butterflies, but maybe she forgot an important detail. Perhaps there was a location it was referred, over the eyes perhaps. No… that didn’t seem right.

“Oh!” Drifter spoke up, momentarily surprising the musing alicorn. “Y-You mean butterflies in my gu, Gah-I mean stomach, right, yeah, yes?” Though he was correcting her, a genuinely appreciated point, he was doing it with all the grace of a diapered foal. She grinned slightly at the analogy, a grin that Drifter saw. “Oh good, I was right. Oh thank Cele-Gah! I-I mean you, yeah! Wait, do I thank you for you?”

Now Luna was chuckling. It was hard not to in the face of such evident skittishness. Just that act alone made his single wing fall, near lying on the floor as evidence to his feelings.

The dark alicorn saw much of another pony in Drifter, a young mare named Fluttershy to be precise. Their first meetings were quite similar filled with fainting and desires to be anywhere else. It only became more evident as both also shared a level of timidity that would cripple most ponies. The key difference between them, color, gender, and occupation aside, was the energy that Drifter had.

To Luna’s own observations, he appeared to be very energetic. It may have been a fortunate, though by no means equal, trade-off with losing his wing. When a strong will cannot do what it loves most, it spends all its energy looking for something new. The lesson had the ring of truth as the Lunar Princess continued to gaze at Drifter, him trembling before her, needlessly at that. Though a strong will was not what most ponies would attribute the skittish stallion to have, she knew from experience upon centuries that strength took more forms than one.

“Please, be at ease,” Luna spoke the phrase for the umpteenth time. She only had to speak it twice to Fiddle and never to Ditzy or Vinyl. They had no more impact on the pegasus now than they did before. He still shook, he still trembled, only now he was bowing in apology.

“I’m sorry, really sorry. So sorry that I’ll promise to-to-to-to say anything at all. Wait, no that’s bad. Um…” The relief Luna felt as his rambling tapered off gave her a guilty feeling. He was stumbling for long enough that it was bound to happen. Good that it was done so she could help lift him up.

“Please,” she spoke the word again, knowing well the little impact it would have. “Focus not on my title, but on your purpose here.” His eyes, though lacking nothing in size or constriction, did wear a small look of bemusement. So the princess spoke on.

“I am not your princess in this moment, nor are you any pony’s subject. You are a musician, brought here by a venerable though questionable spirit who has confidence in you. Though it is far from common, it is not an opportunity to be wasted.” Luna placed her hoof on the smaller stallion’s shoulder, noting lightly that he didn’t shiver or freeze at her contact. A good thing, doubtlessly. “Relax, act as you would during a normal performance, and know that no one is more capable of this task than you.”

For a moment, a moment that was doubtlessly an eon for the young pegasus, Drifter stared up at the Lunar Princess, eyes just as wide and filled with marvel as their first encounter. This time, however, he did not faint nor stumble upon his hooves. He simply stared, enraptured by her words and visage. It was the best way to be praised; while her title was forgotten.

“I… I will,” Drifter spoke in a much calmer voice, though filled with no less energy than before. Luna was pleased to see his smile grow as time continued to pass. “I’ll do that, I’ll… I’ll do excellent! Yeah, I-I’ll make this my best set yet! Before I got clipped, before I met Vinyl! Yeah, this’ll be great, I know it!” Not forgetting himself, the pegasus bowed deeply to his majesty. This time, it was a natural act. “Thank you, princess. I won’t let you down.”

Content with his words of encouragement, he left the princess’s presence, trotting a short distance to a set of bass guitars, as he described them. He started to fiddle with the strings as another pony observed him. Their lips started moving as Drifter started pointing, explaining something beyond the earshot of the alicorn. She smiled warmly at the display.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” A callous voice asked, wiping any momentary joy Luna had. Her smile become a depressed scowl as the familiar and still alien body of Discord wrapped around her, but never touching her. “Tell a pony a few well-placed words and they fall over themselves trying to impress. For whoever said actions spoke louder than words, clearly they never heard a princess speak. You and your sister can stir up a lot with just a few phrases.” His chuckle gave her no joy.

“It is the truth that stirs a pony’s will, Discord,” Luna spoke to the draconequus, knowing that ignorance of his presence would only encourage his act. “Honesty is what a pony needs to hear.”

“Then correct if I’m wrong, and I know I’m not, but did you not say you had confidence in him because I brought him here?” Luna felt a tug in her stomach, forcing it to drop like a stone. The feeling must have showed on her face, as the mad god started to giggle again. She heard a familiar pop of his magic, twice. She looked over to see him floating in the air now, seemingly too much effort to move without the use of his seemingly unfatigued magic. “Did I hit a nerve? I thought you enjoyed the truth. There are plenty of truths about yourself I’d enjoy to hear.”

“My mistakes of the past are known well and reminded of often. I have mediated them with near all others, and my rule since has been free of blemish.” Luna could not hide the venom in her words, not for a creature as twisted as the draconequus.

“Oh yes, I am well aware of all that,” Discord admitted with a shrug of his arms. “A pity, really. You were so much more interesting while conquest was on the mind. It made at least one of you two interesting.” It wasn’t hard to figure who the other pony was. It was still annoying, seeing the mad god materialize a sword and helm into existence, waving the former as he donned the latter.

“The role my sister and I play is far opposite of conquest,” the princess continued with a slight frown. “We seek to aid, not to harm. We aim to bring laughter, not jeers. We are here to assist our ponies, just as you are here to assist another.”

“Oh, assist nothing,” Discord threw the sword aside, letting it vaporize itself into thin air. “I’m here for the entertainment. If that means I have to take a more active role to have the show go on, I’m more than happy to provide what I can!” To emphasize his point, Discord took off his helmet, flipping it over in his paw and claw. Holding it still for a moment, he turned it over, letting pour out a strange liquid that only frequency kept Luna from backing away from. Sure enough, when the strange fluid stopped spilling, Discord again emerged from it. His floating double was gone.

“But being a part of the show does give me a few new vantage points. For example, I thought Octavia was only mare I’d get to watch learn a thing or two,” The conductor suit-wearing draconequus leaned over towards Luna, wearing his same crooked grin and miss-matched eyes. Luna gazed at him unblinking.

“You’ve done a fair bit of changing yourself.” Luna felt her eyes narrow rather than widen.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” The draconequus only chuckled. It was still a far more subdued expression of his likely eternal joy.

“Oh nothing, nothing at all.” He leaned back from her, walking around her and towards the center podium of the orchestra. His serpentine body twisted to let him offer her an amused twisted grin. “Just watching the garden grow.”

Luna hid her confusion well as Discord finally floated away.

“Are they starting now? I think they’re starting,” Ditzy spoke from behind Octavia, making the gray alicorn focus on the stage. She removed Vinyl from beneath the crook of her forehoof, held in a headlock the same mare had put her in shortly after their first meeting. She was surprised at how good it felt, making a disrespectful pony apologize.

Vinyl, as she rose from her playfully captured position, didn’t appear perturbed by the situation in the slightest. With only a realignment of her glasses and shake of her mane, she was back to the grinning and confident DJ she always was. All four mares looked forward at the gray pegasus’s words, watching as the outlier of the ponies, the near ten foot tall draconequus, floated and twisted to the center of the stage. Octavia was not surprised to know he could not even walk three feet without being odd about it.

“He’s lookin’ like he’s ready, but that varmit ain’t an easy tree to buck.” Inappropriate euphemism aside, and ignoring Vinyl’s freshly rekindled chuckling, Octavia realized her doppelganger had a point. Reading Discord was about as easy to read as running with your hooves tied together.

“He’ll be ready soon. We just have to be patient,” Ditzy spoke again, and Octavia did not even have to glance to know the sight-challenged mare was smiling brightly. “I’m sure he will make something amazing to listen to. I almost wish Dinky was here to hear it.”

“I think your daughter is better off far away from the creature,” Octavia could not stop her mouth from speaking the words, but she did not regret them. She was thankful to see nothing objectionable focused on her. At most, Vinyl only chuckled a bit more as Fiddle adjusted her hat.

“Well, he’s not exactly what I’d call family friendly,” Ditzy admitted. Octavia spared a glance this time, seeing the gray pegasus drop her head as if in defeat. The gray alicorn hadn’t an idea what she should feel ashamed for. Perhaps it was more of the over empathetic mare relating to the mad god. “But he is fun. Funny, too.”

“When the bloke ain’t workin’ some angle we’re too many paces back ta spy, sure.” Fiddle muttered from in front of Octavia. The hidden mare had to spare at the words. It was good to know her yellow-coated double was quick to realize the personality of the mad god. It was the first step to remaining safe in his presence. “But Ah reckin’ your right ‘bout one thing, Ditzy.”

“Hmm? What’s that?” Fiddle, instead of adjusting her seat to look at the golden-eye mare, instead pointed her forehoof forward, aimed towards the stage.

“The’re rearin’ and ready ta go.”

Octavia focused her attention on the stage at the words, as did the farm pony, family mare, and the DJ beside her. By observation of the settings, the instruments were all set up an aligned, the sections properly spaced, leveled, and separated. The chairs were set by their appropriate placing, to maximize the acoustics without dampening their volume. Even the horrifically introduced “instruments” from Drifter were positioned where they most appropriately belonged, the trash aside.

Said stallion was standing next to the strings, just beside the cellists but behind the second and third chairs of the violins. The instrument about his neck dictated the position. A guitar, as even Octavia could name, strung with five strings and stretching the long neck of the metal cast instrument. Metal, or some polymer of plastic, not the hard oak of wood. Drifter himself appeared at least a bit more confident than the hours before, no longer shifting uncontrollably or splitting his gaze. He was focused forward, his lips stiff, and holding his instrument tightly. Perhaps a bit too tightly, as the flexed wing hugging his back showed.

As if to perfectly contrast him, Octavia saw Princess Luna, just preparing to sit down, herself the image of poise and perfection. Her ethereally billowing mane hung behind her, hiding nothing of her face and dark coated carriage. Her eyes were lidded, focused only on the dark stained piano beneath her. She sat the pew, hooves hovering over the keys as Octavia’s would her cello’s strings. Her wings were against her side as well, but clenched far softer than Drifter’s singular appendage. The Lunar Princess looked into the minute crowd of the audience, and she smiled as her eyes settled on Octavia.

A quick and silent conversation was shared between them, separated by several rows observed by not a pony in the orchestra or around the cellist. It ended as quickly as it began, with Luna turning back to her piano, a new smile placed upon her lips. Octavia lightly turned away as well, a blush upon her own cheeks.

Not a moment after she did so, Discord spoke.

“Good evening my, oh so, trusted and faithful audience.” Octavia wasn’t sure where he placed his sarcasm in that sentence. They hardly trusted him, faith further away from that, and they hardly qualified as an audience. “It is my pleasure to lead this once in a lifetime opportunity, conducting a song with her royal highness, Princess Luna.” Octavia faced the same problem with the second statement as she did the first. The only thing she agreed with was the rarity to which the orchestra played with, not to, the princess. Though tonight they were doing both…

Her thoughts were momentarily distracted as the sound of clapping echoed behind her. Startled, Octavia turned to see Ditzy performing the deed, smiling in blissful unawareness to the solitude of her gratitude to Discord’s words. Even as her hooves back to her lap, she held a grin as bright as the sun, eyes unequally looking forward. Octavia bit her tongue from making a comment. She was more thankful Vinyl and Fiddle followed suit.

“Well, I’m certainly glad at least one pony is as ready for this as I am,” Discord spoke from the set again, bowing in a crooked manner towards the Ditzy. “But it would be such a shame to have this grand orchestra play to what I could barely consider a crowd.”

Octavia heard, just barely, Celestia making a comment towards the draconequus. She almost missed it, the regal alicorn’s back facing her and so many rows up ahead of her, but by the softest of vibrations and the accumulated attention of the ponies on stage, she knew it was the voice of the Solar Alicorn that caught Discord’s gaze. Not a moment later did Luna follow suit, equally as unheard as her sister.

Though the darker and younger sibling was on the stage, she was too indirect with her words. They didn’t vibrate past the open frame of the stage, hardly making it into the theatre hall. The gray alicorn supposed that was the point. It was a conversation between the royal sisters and the mad god. She was hardly surprised they wished not to make it any more public than it already was.

“Oh, I don’t mean to draw in those boring ponies of yours,” Discord spoke an answer to a question neither Octavia nor her friends heard. “They’re too dull, too restricted by what’s safe and usual. We do need a crowd, but it should be a crowd that really knows what to expect. It makes the surprise all the more beautiful to see.”

Apparently the draconequus was done with conversation, no matter how short it was. For as he spoke, he raised his claw into the air, gripping between two of its talons a conductor’s baton. Octavia had to stare at it for a moment longer than a second to realize how crooked it was, so unbalance. It was appropriate for the mad god. But as his claw rose, so too did his paw, holding themselves over his head as if he were about to command the percussionists to play a crash.

Instead, with a quick wave of his claw and snap of his paw, he ordered his own magic.

When several loud bangs rang through the theatre, within the seats of the audience and not the stage above them, Octavia held back a groan. She knew what happened, even with the lights of Discord’s magic momentarily blinding her. She knew in an instant that she did something both expected, yet twisted just enough to be alien. Oh, he filled the seats of the theatre, but he filled with them with occupants Octavia never expected to see in the masterfully crafted hall. Begrudgingly looking to her left, she saw exactly who the occupants were.

Discords. Specifically, hundreds of tiny, undressed, twisted grinning, Discords. Octavia felt her face fall into a dejected gloom.

“Discord,” Octavia heard Luna’s voice easily enough now. Shouting had that benefit. “What is the meaning of this?! Does thou intend to turn this work of art into a farce?!”

“Oh, don’t be so hasty to judge, princess,” the assumingly original Discord responded to the Lunar Princess. He adjusted the conductor’s suit he adorned momentarily wearing a look of focus before dashing it away, wearing again his usual visage of off-putting glee. “You agreed that we needed an audience, and this just seemed the most appropriate. I wouldn’t want to stop what I do, so therefore I’m the perfect audience to myself. I’m sure me, myself, and I agree?”

Without a doubt done for the intended mockery of the Lunar Princess, all of the miniaturized Discords in the audience began to cheer, whistle, and holler toward the stage. Octavia buried herself into her hooves again, already done thinking about the manipulation of what was once her comfortable, safe haven.

“Are you feeling well?” A concerned question came from beside her. The gray mare knew well enough that who it belonged to, as none of her friends spoke with a baritone voice. She spared a glance, hoping beyond hope that Discord would surprise her now. The first thing she saw was Discord, now matching her in height, leaning in towards her with puckered lips. It was only the wideness of his eyes that kept Octavia from thinking he intended to kiss her. “I thought you of all mare’s would enjoy being in the crowd at the theatre.”

“Must you make a jest of even my paradise?” It was a whine, a blatant and foalish whine. It was the kind of whine that would normally make Vinyl drop her shades and groan in disappointment. The kind of whine she swore she would stop. But for now, with the farce that was being performed around her, she could not help it.

“A jest?” the Discord beside her questioned. “While I do enjoy a good joke, maybe a bit of a prank, I would hardly waste all this effort for a simple jest.” Octavia gave him a dry look, believing as much of his words as she did enjoy drinking rotten milk. “Oh don’t give me that look, the sun and moonbutt sisters up there are giving me enough of that.”

As if to test his words, Octavia looked forward, seeing honesty, for once, in the draconequus’s words.

Luna was giving the formerly dressed Discord a look dry enough to drain a lake of its moisture, perhaps even putting a desert to shame. She could only assume Celestia was offering him much the same, at least by the way he almost gleefully turned from one mare to the other. It was only through his constant shifting that Octavia paid rent to look at the other members of the Orchestra.

For the most part, they acted as stunned as she believed them to be. Many of her colleagues were putting their respective heads between their hooves, looking left and right about the many mad gods that dotted the seats. She knew they were used to playing for the more… controlled of stallions and mares. This was as far outside their comfort zone as possible. Octavia should know, she had been there for the past few months.

To give her colleagues the credit they so well deserved, not one appeared to be debating leaving. None rose from their seats or lowered their instruments. If anything, it appeared that a select few were gripping them tighter. She recognized a stallion friend of hers in the percussion section, leaning over his drums as if to defend them. He did love the tools as she loved her own cello.

Though now that she thought about it a bit more, they likely were trying to protect their instruments. After all, the two most powerful ponies throughout the land were arguing with the most random and unpredictable spirit to ever curse Equestria. It was not a formula Octavia would label successful no matter her state of mind.

“Do you think Dinky would like this?” Despite the noise of the many interacting Discords and heated mares up front, the question reached Octavia’s covered ears. She turned in her seat to see Ditzy speaking with one of the miniature Discords. This one, for a reason the alicorn could not fathom why, was wearing a rainbow-striped bowtie. Maybe it was to make himself more unique. But, he was holding his claw just beneath it, presenting it almost. It took that long for Octavia to realize Ditzy was giving the accessory a critical eye. She had no idea where the other was looking.

“Hmm,” the pegasus muttered, hoof scratching her chin. “She does like rainbows. But she doesn’t like ties, they’re too tight on her.” Octavia realized quickly she was jumping in the middle of a conversation. She wished silently she knew how it began. “Maybe a cape. She likes to play super-mare a lot. She’s very good at jumping off the bed.” Oh yes, Octavia was deftly curious how this select conversation was strung up. But before she could pose the question, she was distracted by another nearby conversation.

“Apples n’ oranges?” The question came from her yellow coated doppelganger. Octavia turned back to see the white hat of Fiddle pushed upwards, her eyes twisted in scrutiny as she talked to one of the many mad gods beside her. While Discord was not an easy figure to describe, it was quick to see how the one Fiddle spoke to differed from the others. He had a literal apple and orange for an eye, left and right respectively.

“Of course! What’s the fun in having the same food every day? That must get awfully boring.” Octavia was oddly thankful to see a look of slowly boiling rage appear on Fiddle’s face. Knowing how much the pair looked alike, Octavia was sure their expressions of anger were near identical as well. It was almost comforting to see the image of herself mad at Discord.

“Now listen here, partner,” Fiddle began with a poke of her hooves. The small push made the fruits drop from Discord eyes, leaving only empty sockets. The farm pony was surprisingly nonchalant about the display. “There ain’t nothin’ borin’ ‘bout our orchard’s apples. They’re the sweetest fruit ya’ll will ever taste and there ain’t no way, no how, any right minded pony is ever gonna’ raise a hoof ‘er voice ‘gainst that.” It was nothing short of perturbing to see Discord’s twisted grin grow at the words.

“But wouldn’t the delicacy of that apple be made all the better when next to a lesser comparison?” Octavia was hard pressed to name a more leading question she had heard before in her life. Sadly, and near mortifyingly, it appeared to be the first time Fiddle had heard it. That was what the alicorn assumed by the yellow mare’s suddenly slack jaw and wide eyes. Even the brim of her hat fell a few inches over her gaze. It made the now-eyeless Discord chuckle.

Octavia was ready to voice herself in defense of her friend, the mare whose fiddle playing and family bonding had brightened her weekend with considerable grace. It was the very least in a great many of actions she could do to pay her back. But before she could, she was interrupted by another conversation. This was from her right and, unfortunately, exactly as jovial as she would have expected its two participants to be.

“How about these two?” The question was posed from Discord, undeniably. He was doubtlessly referring to something either being held in his unequal forelimbs or, far more likely, indicating a part of his suddenly changed body. Octavia found his behavior a strange mix of predictable and surprising.

“You’d have to focus on the chorus more in that one,” she heard her DJ friend speak back, her voice hiding little of her excitement, like she ever did. “But boost the bass when you hit the second verse in that track and you’d get a killer set! Might even get ice queen’s melting, if you know what I mean.”

Octavia didn’t have the courage to look toward her friend after that statement. Instead, when the near malicious laughter of Discord and Vinyl floated to her over the sea of sound in the theatre, she buried her face in her hooves again. She wondered if that counted as exercise by this point. She was doing it often enough.

“Oh what a simply delightful sight that would be,” Discord agreed following his amused chuckle. “But why stop there? What if we add a track or nine? Maybe we can turn fire to ice and then to sand.” The sentence was simply terrible, in more ways than Octavia could name. So, naturally, Vinyl loved it.

“Oh yeah! Add some smooth jazz between the rock solo and you’d get the ponies doin’ the Charleston down on the floor!” Her friend’s laughter had never sounded so ominous before, not even compared to her usual pranks. May the princesses bless whomever her friend set her gaze on.

“Why stop there?” The Discord beside her friend asked. “Why not add some classical and unheard song before. No pony expects what they’ve never heard. Now where could we find a mare to help us with classical music? If only there was a mare recently made more open to music trained in classical music all her life. Oh if only there was a mare such – oh look!” His voice suddenly perked. Octavia groaned, knowing full well what was coming next. “It’s Octavia.”

The silence between the three of them did nothing to help Octavia’s churning rage. It was only made worse when she practically heard Vinyl’s wide grin.

“Oh yeah, Octavia, good to see you,” her now questionable friend spoke, as if they hadn’t been talking for the past few hours. “You wouldn’t happen to have a few rocking chords for your violin lying around, would you?” So out of mind was she that Octavia didn’t even have the idea to correct Vinyl on her improper addressing of the instrument.

Why was she here again? If she recalled, it was a joint idea between her, Luna, and Discord, though not it felt as if that was an impossible thing, either alicorn agreeing with the now copiously number mad god. Maybe it was about music, that seemed likely. But between the discussions of rainbow apparel, changing apples for orange, moving guitars into the orchestra, and listening to her friend plot her doom, listening to music seemed rather… unlikely at this point.

“Why are we here again?” Octavia found the question finally leaving her lips, muffled slightly beneath her hooves. She was hoping asking it aloud would give her mind a new sense of clarity. It worked often for Vinyl, though it usually involved screaming. What she did not expect was an answer.

“Why I do believe it was to listen to music, then we’re supposed to group and talk about it. But isn’t it great when things happen out of order?” Octavia turned a slow and narrowed eye to her left, staring at yet another miniature discord, one of near few hundred that littered the room like unwanted tissues. He had a short gleam to his smile, lips covering all but his single enlarged tooth. “Gives you a chance to think things over, imagine a few new possibilities.”

“Or perhaps wonder about the existence of the inane.” Octavia hoped her voice had extra bite in it, directing the words towards the copiously compiled creature. Discord, as she should have expected by now, seemed to enjoy it. She hoped she would never have to see the act literally. It was a very real fear considering whom she was speaking to.

“Yes, that’s an excellent point!” He directed one of his talons at the hidden alicorn. “I do want to play a song with that ever so skittish pegasus, but why waste the opportunity to speak with all of you? I could only expect you would all run for the hills as soon as we were done.” Octavia couldn’t deny her desire to be rid of his presence. She was starting to second guess his credentials at this point.

“So you hoped to satiate your desire for fun before you began?” Octavia didn’t even care what her questions stirred up now. Unless Discord would break his promise and expose her, here and now, to her the Orchestra she loved to belong to, there was very little else he could do to haunt her. Unfortunately, again by the gleam of his teeth, he seemed to realize that.

“Oh, come now, Octavia, I expected at least a little more from you.” He cajoled her critically, an action that nearly made Octavia slam him into the seat. She still had a tuba in her head, ready to blow and take control of her magic. “No no no, though that’s not it at all, but if you haven’t got it yet, I don’t suppose there is anymore use planting around the bush.” That metaphor seemed improperly stated- or used; one of the two.

Before she could voice those words, Discord’s voice rang out across the audience… of himselves. It took Octavia’s shifting head to see that it was the Discord on the stage speaking, still dressed in a conductor’s suit.

“Settle down everyone, settle down.” The words would have normally done very little to Discord. When every draconequus in the audience simultaneously became quiet, Octavia swiftly concluded it was because he was listening to himself. A few odd thoughts passed through her mind about that.

“Before we begin this grand piece, I believe we must first thank the ponies who have made this possible.” A cold sweat settled over Octavia, despite the clothes she wore. “First and foremost, the Canterlot Orchestra!”

With a wave of his paw and claw, the latter gripping a conductor’s baton, the crowd of miniature Discord’s began to cheer. Normally, the verbose action would have insulted her. In fact, it still did. But she saw something else that made the action of the mad god… less insulting.

The faces of the orchestra’s members. Their pleased faces.

Octavia was caught wondering if she would wear such an expression regardless of who complimented her. She certainly hoped not. They looked as if a few sweet words would make dancing with the devil an enjoyable act. Perhaps this was how Vinyl saw her originally. Again she rather hoped not.

“Yes, a round of applause!” Discord waved his hand as if were controlling the volume of the cheers. He very possibly was. “And though they have taken it upon themselves to help us perform this unique piece, we cannot forget another very special pony.” The sweat had returned to Octavia. “Overcoming his understandable hesitance to perform in public, this wonderful stallion is doing what so few ponies would do to make this night memorable. I ask of you to cheer for the One-Winged Angel, Drifter!”

Though the cheers returned just as loudly and guttural as the first time, Octavia was far more focused on the blue pegasus in question. Namely, how his expression wore the visage of shame and wonder all at once. The shame was easily due to the name, drawing attention to mistakes. The wonder, however… well it was likely he was unused to recognition. It would explain his clear trepidation. If that was the case, Octavia was truly impressed he was still standing and not lying on the ground with an over-heated expression.

“But we have but one more mare to thank before we begin this wonderful performance.” Octavia could literally feel ice form in her gut. It was rather uncomfortable. “And that is the wonderful alicorn whom without we would not even be able to dream. One last applause for the the Lunar Princess herself, Princess Luna!”

Though the cheers were just as great and the volume no less grand, Octavia could only find one word to describe Luna’s expression. She wished she could conjure more, a sentence perhaps to truly make it a more eloquent description of an appropriately so eloquent mare. But no, only one word would be able to suffice Octavia’s opinion of Luna’s expression.

Pissed.

It took that long for Octavia to realize that, out of all the other ponies in the theatre hall, only one other was clapping. Ditzy Doo, as the hidden alicorn now expected of her. Her innocent ideals wouldn’t be perturbed by Discord’s childish acts, certainly not while she had a child herself to raise. It simply sounded… odd, a lone pegasus cheering amongst a sea of proverbial maniacs. Discord would be proud of the name.

She could no longer see Princess Celestia or Princess Twilight, both at the front rows and now vastly overshadowed by the many Discords that lined the seats between them, majority currently standing as they whooped and yelled in cheer. She could not, for the very life of her, imagine either doing any more than glowering at Discord. He probably took the looks as compliments. Octavia made sure she contributed her fair share.

Unfortunately, for likely worse than better, Vinyl’s wide signature grin outdid any scowl the gray alicorn could have mustered. It helped that the only thing keeping Vinyl from clapping was the awkward position she sat in the chair. Octavia was tempted to pull one of her hooves out, tripping her friend. She reigned in the guilty thought, refusing to drop to such a level.

“But now, before the music begins, let me start with a story.” Discord’s voice rang out, silencing his many clones and, surprisingly to Octavia, earning her attention. He flashed a toothy grin, one that Octavia felt was full more of mischief than malice… hopefully.

“Many mares, stallions, and ponies in general prefer to think of me as a purveyor in the odd arts. A simple creature with an odd goal.” Discord chuckled slightly before he spoke on. “They couldn’t be more right.” Not exactly the words she was expecting. At this point, that was likely the intended point.

“But what in the odd is thought to be wrong? A few bad apples in an otherwise lush garden, and the whole crop is deemed sour.” Octavia, even from behind her white-hatted doppelganger, could feel the rage emanating from Fiddle. There were likely a few terms in there that were intentionally misused. “But what is so often forget is the joy that the odd can bring.”

“Live for all your finite lives in the realm of the expected and you will never find a surprise.” Discord spoke the words like a commandment. “Things that are new are naturally crafted from the odd, and they are only odd until they are accepted. Surprises are what keep the minds thinking, and an idle mind is a terrible waste.”

“So what is my point in this, you may ask.” Octavia was rather sure the vast majority of the audience was already well aware. “Why, to introduce the music of course!”

With a spin of his slytherin body, a wave of the baton in its south-paw position, literally, Discord flashed his magic over the ponies of the Orchestra, Luna and Drifter included. A momentary bout of fright took them over, Octavia included, until nothing was perceived to be wrong. The hidden alicorn felt her horn alight regardless, though its illumination was hidden by the hat she wore.

Silence overtook the concert hall, still and undisturbed. It sank around Octavia, focusing her senses, her hearing, her everything, onto the stage. The lights began to dim, shadowing the crowd of Discords into darkness. The lights on the stage became bright, putting a select number of ponies on center stage. Drifter, Celestia bless his timid heart, was one of them. Octavia could nearly see the sweat running down his coat from her position in the audience.

“Now,” Discord resumed, slowly lowering his baton towards the one-winged pegasus. “Let’s bring out some holiday cheer.”

Octavia stared at the blue pegasus, watching as his wide eyes shut themselves tightly. Normally when she witnessed such an act, she interpreted it as concentration, one trying to drown themselves with their own thoughts. It was not an uncommon practice, especially for musicians. But with Drifter, something was clearly different.

His brow was not creased heavily, his lips strained, or his snout scrunched. Though his lips trembled and his body shook, his eyes were calm. Shut, yet calm. It took the hidden alicorn a whole moment to realize what he was doing. It was not simply concentration. It was abandonment.

Almost in conjunction with the epiphany, Octavia remembered her friend’s words about the pegasus. The DJ felt just inclined to lean over and repeat them.

“Get a good picture,” the alabaster unicorn whispered quickly. “Cause you’re about to see a whole new stallion.”

As her words died in the silence, Drifter’s guitar slowly began to strum.

BEGIN

He played his notes in a 4/4 measure, repeating up and down a simple scale. As each note rang out, it echoed through the hall as another played behind it. It was like a quick cascade of water, each wave following one another. It was far from drowning, as Octavia had assumed any level of guitar would be. Rather, it was calming. Slow, simple, and steady in pace.

Octavia felt her head slowly began to rise and fall with the notes, following them through the meters the pegasus played. Almost matching in time, a violin began to play. Octavia glanced along the Orchestra to see the first chair playing the notes, her eyes focused on the draconequus waving a baton. Octavia didn’t recall the mare’s name, but she knew from many sessions of practice that she was diligent to the code of performing.

Her notes did not echo Drifter’s, but nor did they deviate. They instead formed a ship, following a different pattern through the meters. It rode across the waves Drifter created, rising and falling like sailing over the sea. Octavia felt her head following it, dipping with each pass and rising with every crest. It broke softly, drifting off as the single-winged pegasus’s guitar took lead once more. Then again, the violin came into play, carrying the same notes and forming the same ship to ride over the sea. But between the two, another instrument came into play.

Octavia turned to the wind section, seeing another lone light shine upon a stallion dressed in black. Octavia knew him, Whittler, a stallion she had known since her foal days. Never close, never really friends, but at the very least acquaintances. He was talented with the flute, as every member of the Orchestra was with his or her respective instruments. But the way he interjected into the soft ballad of the two strings, it showcased his skill.

She saw the flick of Discord’s wrist, directing the trio as they continued to play together, one beginning, another following, then ending before another. Only Drifter kept his soft ballad continuous throughout. It took Octavia that long to realize there was no way, with Discord playing, that this would last. Sure enough, it did not.

Drifter’s guitar was the first to soften, to fade into the soft vacuum of sound. Then the violin, playing a few dying notes, before silencing itself. Only Whittler’s flute played on, carrying what felt like the last waves of the sea to shore. Octavia softly shut her eyes as she prepared for whatever horror awaited on the land the music carried them too.

With a powerful boom from Drifter’s guitar, the Discord’s song truly began.

Octavia felt herself nearly jump in her seat, forcing to adjust her hat. She ignored any snickering in the audience, or rather, the snickering was muted out. The percussionists were beginning to play, the drums being beaten in the back. Drifter’s guitar was picking up in pace, though softer in volume. A long and deep chord was being carried from the string section.

Octavia felt a breath slowly being sucked into her, feeling the true force of the orchestra she so loved to be a part of. Discord, paw and claw never ceasing their direction of the set, flashed a knowing and crooked grin towards her. She successfully blocked it out. Then, with a jab towards the percussionists, a new set of instruments joined in.

Bells. There were bells. There were bells that rang like a church’s call. Deep in pitch and high in volume. The echoed over the hall, carrying with them a breath of air Octavia greedily sucked in. The string section took up volume beneath the rings, playing descending half-measures. Then, every time the strings fell too low, Drifter would strum hard on his guitar again, lifting them up into the air.

Normally, Octavia only ever truly lost herself into music she played. It was so much easier, letting her mind slip away as her hooves continued to play, so much more difficult while another did so. While others played, she criticized. While she played, she fantasized. That was why what was happening now was so unbelievable.

Octavia could feel it, imagine it, see what Discord was doing. It was incredible, it was horrible, it was… unreal. Discord, through all of his twisted and omniscient machinations, had made a set she could not critique, something she could only listen to without a thought of what would be more appropriate.

For the first time since her ascension, for the very first time since she had grown her horn and wings, Octavia was keeping her eyes open. She was watching as the music was played before her.

She watched as her magic danced through the air.

It didn’t flow gently from her horn, reveal itself through the top hat she adorned. Instead, it formed about the darkened hall, taking control of the lights that shone upon the stage, possession of the curtains that were raised. With every deep strum from Drifter’s guitar, her hold became more powerful. With every deepening chord from the strings, she felt her magic become tangible. And with every ring of the bell, the lights began to change.

The soft solo lights became hardened beams, narrowing into thin lines as they simultaneously split into many parts. One solo light became a dozen lasers. One yellow bulb became a rainbow of gray and blue. The lights did not settle on the stage, they focused on it, pointing at it like Discord did with the tip of his baton, manic smile ever present.

The lights were dancing atop the Orchestra, pelting the many ponies with forceless blows. Hard lights raking over them, matching in time and tune with the music conjured by them. It was wrong, it was perfect. It was unnatural, yet it was expected. It was every reason for them to stop playing their instruments, to give up and walk away.

But the Orchestra never swayed in their play.

Then, Drifter’s guitar picked up again. No longer making low strums, but playing quick measures, filled by quarter and eighth. Subtle as the change in the music, the volume was rising with every measure he passed. Then, not even into the second stanza, two cellos joined the art. They were not Octavia’s, obviously, but they played with Drifter in perfect time and rhythm. Like the waves Drifter had made at the beginning, these began to rise. The crests were higher, the drops deeper, like it was attempting to capsize any vessel foolish enough to ride across it.

The lights overhead, manipulated by Octavia’s magic, seemed to agree. Split into five different lasers as they were, they moved individually with the measures Drifter and the strings played. With each note, one would swing, running across the stage like a wind over the sea, there then gone. But just as quickly, when the next and equivalent measure began, the lights reset, and started to run once more.

Then Drifter, eyes still gently shut, put a manic grin on his lips. Octavia realized, a faint thought through her attention to the music, just what Vinyl meant when she said he was a different pony on stage. He broke from the measures he was playing, following the drag of Discord’s paw as he directed the music.

He played high notes of great volume, dropping only to rise again, then rise and fall then rise then fall again. Octavia felt her head bobbing with the music, entranced esthetically. It was just as Vinyl had said, the orchestra was merely background music to his performance. The strings now carried his guitar, boats now carrying the sea. The bells, flashes of thunder in the sky, carried them both through a void.

The lights flashed, but swayed like the sea. The dark gray became a harsh white, the gentle blue and striking aqua. They flashed in seemingly random directions, each pointing across the stage at areas wholly unrelated to the music. It reminded Octavia of lightening, in color, shape, size, and even use.

Drifter’s guitar began to rise from the great pit it fell into, carrying the music with it. The drums, the strings, and even the percussions all followed his lead. The ships were at the mercy of the sea, the lights obeying the sway of the ocean. The great and colorful lights rose upwards, drawing themselves from the tip of the stage Discord stood on, followed the length of the walls, and disappeared into the braziers up above.

Again and again, the stallion carried them through the measures, up and up with each strum of his guitar. The strings were at his mercy, the percussionists his lead, and the lights to his command. Even he rose with the notes he played, dragging his guitar through the air as if fighting some great weight.

Discord, at the helm of the madness, lifted his baton with the rising notes, drawing them forth and bidding them to grow. It was not just Drifter’s guitar that grew in volume. Every member of the Orchestra did. The strings, the percussions, the winds, everything! Octavia’s breath was hard to control.

But then, with a pull of Discord’s claw, all of their instruments silenced, except for one.

Only the pounding of a piano echoed through the concert hall, only the deep chords being banged into the air. Octavia focused on the princess behind the keys, the alicorn now hidden by her own ethereal mane. It hung low over her eyes, hiding her from view, leaving only shooting stars to be seen, firing within her mane.

Octavia’s magic didn’t focus the lights on her, however, not like the other instruments. There were lasers about her, colorful and much in number. No, Octavia’s magic didn’t control the set about the alicorn. It manipulated the instrument the dark princess played.

As Luna continued to play the descending chords, Octavia’s magic made the piano shine with a color that matched. It was a dazzling blue, then a soft gray, then an endless black. It was changing with the song, changing as the notes fell in pitch, becoming grander as the piece became deeper.

Then Drifter’s guitar and the violinists played again. Their strings played quick chords to match the measures Luna played, echoing over the hall as well. The spotlights shined on them as well, split up and made into dazzling hues of black and blue. Now though, the lights were offering something new.

The lasers, once told by Vinyl to be straight and forms of light that cats enjoyed to play with, were bending about the musicians. About the single-winged guitarist, with eyes shut and muscles relaxed, the blue lights of the shattered spotlight twirled around him, coiling like a spring. His notes made the lights tighter, made their coil stronger, and all the while, the more dazzling to watch.

Then just as quickly, they cut out again, leaving only the Princess of the Night and piano of shifting colors. But as she played now, it pulsed with the magic, vibrated with the music. Like watching the shattering of a clear pool, the colors were all the hues of dark blue, shining against a night’s unblemished sky. Octavia wasn’t aware if she was breathing. She didn’t care to check.

Once more Drifter chimed in, playing his guitar and bending the light around him. The twisted lasers eagerly wrapped around him, enraptured by him. Judging by the small smile he had, as seen by every slow rise of his head, he enjoyed their metaphorical embrace. Each strum of his chords became deeper, longer, and farther and farther apart.

Then finally it broke, leaving the strings of the orchestra silent. The remnants of Drifter’s guitar hung in the air, the last breath of his chord. It vibrated through the all but silent air, drifting further away like the pull of a tide. As it drifted off, so too did the light, uncoiling from him and darkening in color.

Softly through the falling volume of the guitar, Luna’s piano started to rise. Like stars shooting through the open sky, the notes were there and gone. So quick they were almost illusions, but so precise that they could not be ignored. Octavia’s magic gave such thoughts form. The black piano the dark alicorn played on, alight with the keys she pounded, had small sudden streaks of white across it. Luminescent alabaster trails over flashes of black, aqua, and blue.

And as the song continued, the strings began to rise again. Small in volume, but growing in number, the streams of the broken lights began to wave. Those lights darkened, becoming an almost unfamiliar green as they twirled about the string section, lighting the many mares and stallions that pulled at their string. Drifter was among their number, the same lights from before eagerly encroaching on him again.

But Luna did not let her piano soften, and the comets that played across her piano did not dimmer. They grew in volume and size, becoming more of a beacon amongst the orchestra than a simple bone to stand on. Even the bells joined the chimes of the keys, ringing through the sound, beckoning the wayward instruments to the ship at sea, to Luna’s piano upon Drifter’s guitar.

Then with a sudden boom, the piano vanished.

It was replaced with the pounding of drums, the percussionists taking center stage with their art. Octavia’s music was quick to comply with their attention, letting the light shine down upon their toms and taunt tools. They beat at them with purpose, the light jumping with each force, changing color with every blow. If her breath was not already gone, Octavia was sure it had abandoned her at this point.

Discord let his claw command them, poking at the air with every fall they made. All the while his baton controlled Drifter’s strings, making their volume deeper, louder, and more in control than any other section of the Canterlot Orchestra. Only Luna was in the dark now, her piano without light and her keys without tune. That would not last for long.

The strings fought for their place then, the violins beginning to cry out at high volumes amongst the blows of the drums and strums of the guitar. The light agreed with their plight, Octavia’s magic instantly flowing over their instruments with eager abandon. Their chords turned the light aqua blue, their measures changing them back to brilliant white.

Octavia was not surprised when Luna’s piano took over again, pounding down the keys as they had before. The measures they played the same as before, the notes they had the same as before, but the volume they possessed was far greater than any other measure. Even against the pegasus’s guitar, the strings’ violins, and the percussions’ drums, the alicorn’s piano was as clear as stars in a calm, cloudless night. But this ballad was anything but calm.

The chorus came again, or at least to what Octavia assumed to be such. The music may be unfamiliar, but it did not falter her magic’s path.

Now the magic gave light to a new instrument, not Luna’s alone. Drifter’s guitar started to shimmer like the waves his guitar seemed to make, changing with colors with every note he played. The strings that vibrated altered the colors, but every chord seemed to reform it. Every note appeared to change the shade, but every brake restored the correct hue. It was like watching the sea dance in a storm.

Octavia, only just barely, was able to turn her attention to the mares around her, though she had to find rhyme and reason to do so. Vinyl was wholly enraptured by the music, her glasses since abandoning her eyes, letting the lavender irises beneath see the spectacle at its best. Her jaw was just as wide as her lids, virtually drooling over the music and light.

It was impossible to see Fiddle, not without bending over the seats and staring at her, but judging by the way her hat was titled and no motion was made to correct it, the mare was not focused on anything but the Orchestra at head. Her eyes were likely strained to stay open, unwilling to block even a moment of the sight.

Octavia only needed to glance to see Ditzy, by far and away the most physical with her emotions. And, judging by the clear spread of her wings, light in her focused eye, and gleam of her teeth between her spread lips, she wasn’t simply enjoying the show. She loved it.

Then something new happened. Not another verse and certainly different than the chorus. The hidden gray alicorn focused on Discord, watching as the mad god controlled the unseen strings of the Orchestra, his paw and claw moving with unusual purpose in movements. Though she was implicitly familiar with the motion of the baton, the purpose and meaning behind every swing, Discord moved in a way that made no sense.

But then, with a quick pull, something entirely new happened. Octavia could only describe the noise that followed as reckless abandon. It made sense given, the conductor at hoof.

The strings began to play their notes like the last calls of a sinking ship, filled with a desperate need to be heard, to be remembered, to be anything but forgotten. The bells that rang proudly, as if high on the church tower, bellowed through the concert hall with a ring that would not be silenced by anything short of time. It shook Octavia in her seat and down to her soul.

Luna slammed her keys with the force of a falling mountain, commanding them to keep the stage anything but safe, to rise above the rest like the great alicorn she was. And the piano listened, giving no less than every conceivable vibration its strings allowed. Drifter was no different, playing down his guitar with a purpose Octavia never would have expected from the timid pegasus. It would have been breathtaking, were the alicorn not already in danger of suffocating.

And the light was not to be forgotten. Their numbers now in the hundreds, their colors more varied than the visible spectrum, and dancing across the stage in every way that matter could conceivably move.

It flowed through the members like a riptide, quick and direct. It coiled about the soloists, possessive with need. It showered the instruments that gave tribute, giving them hues that eyes were almost forbidden to see. It was everything Octavia thought was blasphemy to music. It was the most wondrous thing she had ever heard.

But then a duel began to commence, between the dark alicorn of the night, and the once-timid pegasus with a single wing. It would have been a joke if Octavia had not already seen all that she had.

Drifter’s guitar rang out, each strum louder than the next, each climbing for a throne he fought to possess. He ran against Luna, who flew with her piano, approaching the sky’s domain with ease, fighting off whomever felt the need to compete. And the light was torn between them.

It shimmered. It shined. It morphed. It collided.

Then, with a final slam of their respective instruments, the light cascaded into the air.

The song was done.

[END

Slowly, like in the echo of a cave, Drifter’s guitar flew and faded away, taking with it any doubt Octavia had to the pegasus’s abilities. In its wake, it left a thick and near impenetrable wall of silence.

The silence was there for several reasons. The music had faded, and no more instruments played. The audience, even the many hundreds of copies of Discord, were motionless. But before anything else, it was because everyone, from the Orchestra to the alicorns, were captivated by the sights. Not by the musicians who had played such a magnificent set and not by the draconequus that once again revealed a bit of the method to his madness.

They were all enthralled by Octavia’s magic, still hanging in the air like the remnants of a winter’s storm. The lights hung like light snow, the instruments glowed like dying light, and even the air was filled with a chill that could not be ignored.

Luna’s instrument still pulsed like the ending of a cold night’s comet shower, clear of any clouds or fog, letting the last tails of the falling stars move and disappear over the hard oak. The great piece slowly changed from dark blue, the light aqua, before finally settling back on the familiar dark abyss.

Even Drifter’s guitar shared pieces of the wayward magic, swirling like the waves of a sea he did well to imitate in the piece. It did not fade and rise, but crest and descend in color, moving from green, to blue, to white, to finally settling back on the teal the instrument was before. The pegasus seemed almost relieved to see the familiar color again.

The lights, however, were what truly captivated most of the ponies. How couldn’t they? Bending around the many musicians as if they were eager fans, straight rays of laser light curled like spring, shattered like glass, colored like a winter’s rainbow. It was all so… amazing, breathtaking at that.

But Octavia could see the questions forming, see the wonder turn to curiosity in the ponies’ eyes. The awe of the magic was changed to a search, looking for the caster of the curious mess.

That was not good. It would be difficult to explain away the magic as any of the other alicorns, likely due to their frequent appearance at other musical conventions, ones that lacked the current magic hanging in the air. It may have been plausible for them to sneak the blame to Vinyl, a mare who loved the eccentric like a duck to water, but even she was currently awed, not something a caster usually was for their own work.

That left her, and only her. What if they asked who she was? The pony hiding in a top hat and coat. How would she respond? Teleport? Run? Fly?

“Well, wasn’t that delightfully unexpected?”

Discord’s voice rang out across the hall, drawing the attention of every member of the Orchestra, Octavia included. He had the same crooked smile, the same gleam to his mismatched eyes, and even the same knowing wink directed at her. Silence temporarily took over the hall, following his verbose question, but he was quick to reclaim his territory.

“I must thank you all for listening to our ballad and dealing well with the magic used.” He bowed lowly the crowd as he spoke, a crowd consisting almost entirely of himself. With a twirl of his paw he stood up, spun around, then bowed to the ponies behind him. “And to you, the ever so talented members of the Canterlot Orchestra. I never would have expected you to be so… willing to alter your usual symphonies. That’s a rare gift, one that you should never let go of.”

It took Octavia not even a moment to realize what the draconequus was doing. Where everyone was following the magic just before, trying to find the originator of the art, now they were hanging on the words of the Mad God, drawing conclusions to his, assumingly, honest praise and cryptic phrase. Octavia marked a point his favor, forgiving him for any one offense he may commit against her later. In conjunction with the song, that put him two points ahead.

“And to you two as well, Princess Luna and Drifter.” The draconequus extended, literally, his claw towards the pair. The talons elongated as the pointed towards the pair of blue ponies, one skittishly avoiding the attention, the other calmly accepting it with an opaque mask. “Your work upon your instruments was truly a wonderful surprise. Pleasant to the ears and unexpectedly easy to harmonize.” He chuckled at his words, hearing a joke none other did.

“But sadly we must now move on, as the curtains close and the audience dissolves.” With a snap of his claw, they did just that.

Every row of seats in the concert has was immediately enveloped in smoke. Surprised squeaks and came from a few choice ponies, Octavia included. She expected a banging sound and some flashing light, to be blinded by something thicker than morning mist. She pushed her hooves through the thickly condensed air, faring little well against it.

But then, as soon as it came, it left. But as it left, it took with it every copy of Discord, save the conductor at the head of the stage. Normally, as normal as it could ever be, Octavia would have simply huffed away the act, annoyed but otherwise unperturbed. That was not the case now.

Though every member of the audience was gone, so too were every member of the Orchestra. Such a detail was quickly noticed. He was back down to equal marks.

“Discord!” Princess Luna shouted in place of Octavia, her voice closer and louder than the gray alicorn’s. “What have you done to them!?” The ‘them’ was obvious, as even Drifter was staring horrified around him, eyes panicking as his head shook left and right. The low whistle Octavia heard from beside her told her that Vinyl was oddly impressed by the display. She would need to have a talk to her friend about the appropriate times for such actions.

“Settle your feathers, princess, wouldn’t want those flying off quite yet.” And now Octavia owed him another beating. Splendid. “I did nothing harmful to them, I promise. In fact, I dare to say that your expectancy for me to do the dark deeds has made my actions rather surprising, in the best of ways.” Octavia all at once knew what that meant.

“You sent them home, then.” It took a moment for Octavia to place the voice as Princess Celestia’s, still sitting in the front row, wings against her back and posture perfect. She appeared to be little frightened by Discord’s sudden dismissal of the ponies. Twilight, just beside her, was the mirror opposite, standing on all fours and horn alight. “That’s very kind of you Discord, thank you.”

It amazed Octavia still how a compliment from the Princess of the Sun actually made the Mad God scowl.

“You always know how to ruin the fun, don’t you Sunbutt?” Vinyl cackled next to Octavia; as Octavia sadly expected. Fiddle stifled a chuckle in front of her; that was mortifying. “But yes, you are correct, no use in trying to deny the truth, is there? But I suppose that does allow us to rush things right along now, doesn’t it?”

Without another word, Discord snapped his paw. In a much more familiar flash of white, his suit was gone, leaving only his long scaled body behind, tall and menacing as always. Princess Luna was quick to trot beside him, likely the guardian in her attempting to stifle any more of his magical attempts, Octavia reasoned.

“We are here for a very special reason, a very special mare to be precise.” Discord’s paw extended into the audience, aimed at the hidden gray alicorn. All eyes turned to her again. Thankfully, she saw this one coming.

“Are they talking about you or me?” Octavia heard Ditzy ask from behind her. She hid her smile well as she turned to her wall-eyed friend, raising a brow in silent question. However, upon inspection, Ditzy seemed genuinely confused. “My school teachers growing up would always call me that.”

Octavia, deep inside her mind, reasoned she owed a few long-retired teachers visit.

“He’s talkin’ about our little gem in the field,” Fiddle clarified, the amusement clear in her voice. She had a horrifyingly great number of qualities similar to Vinyl.

“You did such a wonderful job this evening,” Discord continued, earning their collective attention again. “I had hoped that you would not need to have a piece of wood in her hooves to use your magic, but I never expected it to be so… oh what’s the word for it?” As if to showcase his search for the word, Discord did what he always does.

Pulling at one of his gnarled horns, the top of his head popped open. It reminded Octavia strikingly of a waste bin. She figured they were likely filled with the same amount of garbage. Not stopping, however, the Mad God proceeded to sift through his open skull, grabbing at places his mind should have belonged. It was hard to find what was lost long ago.

“Ah, there it is!” Discord put on a cheerful face, slamming the top of his head closed with a light bang, complete with a flash of white. Puffing his long thin chest, he proceeded to speak… before immediately deflating like a released balloon. “It was natural.”

Octavia saved in her mind his loathe for the word. She assumed easy, obvious, fate, and meant to be all qualified under the same category.

“Indeed.” The agreement from Princess Luna immediately shut all of the gray alicorn’s musings. Her eyes focused on the dark alicorn, she saw the princess of the night staring back at her, smiling with the brilliance of her moon and stars. “Though far beyond what I expected, I am overjoyed to see you have such control of your magic, Octavia. I hope we see your art again soon.”

Discord didn’t allow time for the statement to sink in.

“That’s excellent! Because we’re far from done.” Those words were simultaneously riveting and horrifying. Judging by the way Vinyl’s glasses fell down her snout, Octavia was not alone in her shock.

“We’re not?” She finally spoke, though in a volume that barely carried to her own ears, let alone the princesses and Mad God. But leave it to the master of the impossible to hear her clear as a whistle.

“Of course not! I thought we agreed that we needed to really stretch those magic muscles of yours.” To once again draw his point, Discord flexed his forelimbs as a bodybuilder would. She was… somewhat cheerful to see his limbs fall like wet noodles. The chuckling behind her was shared in pleasant company.

That feeling died the moment she felt herself disappear in a bang, only to reappear on the stage. Her stomach didn’t agree with the quick drop or sudden stop.

She felt a limb wrap around her carriage, gently at that, keeping her upright and able. It took a moment, a groggy one filled with a long groan and bleary eyes, but Octavia was able to shake the vertigo of Discord’s magic transportation. She was thankful it was faster than last time.

She was not thankful it was Discord who had wrapped himself around her. She made sure to glare at him to show the point.

“Now, here’s what I need,” he spoke lowly to her, leaning against her as he ignored her look of rage. “I need you and your friends to go somewhere open, as in open air, not an open store. Make sure you bring your cello… maybe a xylophone… oh! And if you can, how about a few crystal glasses?”

What began as a genuine request quickly devolved into the mad god’s usual drawn out drabble of inane quests and requests. Octavia, as calmly as she could even with a fresh Orchestra’s worth of trumpets in her head, prepared to tell Discord to release her. She could make no promises she wouldn’t field him to the stage floor, paying for damages later.

But before she could, he popped out of existence, only to reappear again high above her and Luna, looking down at them from his invisible hammock. His grin was just as twisted and unsettling as ever.

“And please understand, I know the request is a bit… off, even for my standards, but there is a point and I’d simply hate to have our guest feel unwelcomed.” Luna had prepared a scolding for the draconequus, complete with the barring of his abilities. Octavia was ready to trounce him, slamming him into the seats as she had done previously to the train cabin’s floor and Canterlot Hall before. But at his words, both stopped, bemused and confused by the declaration. Against her better judgment, Octavia spoke.

“What guest, Discord?” She was just able to say the words without gritting her teeth. She didn’t think he was worth the effort, but years of training from her parents overruled a few annoying evenings with the mad god. She doubted it would last a day more.

“That is a fine question,” Luna agreed with her. “As I thought we were not going to selfishly disrupt our promise.” The hint in the words was hidden like a cloud in the sky.

“And promises I keep, for I have miles to go before I sleep,” Discord rhymed as he answered the pair of alicorns. “Its only a single guest you’ve never met. I’d be rather surprised to even say you heard of him. And be kind with your words, Ms. Lovegood, because I would never chance ruining this opportunity. Besides,” he spoke as he swept his paw over the empty row of seats.

Octavia followed the motion, spying the elder and younger princess still at the front of the audience. She was only mildly surprised to see how calm Celestia was, especially when juxtaposed against the near frantic Twilight. Age and wisdom was likely the cause of that. But beyond the pair, she saw her friends farther in the audience.

Her yellow coated doppelganger, Fiddle, was eyeing her with a raise of her hat, letting nothing obscure her vision. Vinyl was just leaning over the chairs in front of her in wonder. She had an odd look on her face. It appeared to be concern of some kind, but it seemed almost alien on her friend. But for Ditzy, the farthest back, the worry over her miss-aligned eyes and beneath her golden mane was more obvious than the mad god floating in the air.

“I think what song may come next, you friends deserve a part in it too.” Octavia turned her back to Discord at his words…

Only to see he was gone.

Octavia pinched the bridge of her nose with her hoof, shutting her eyes as she attempted to quell the slowly growing cacophony of noise in her head. Even with a fresh Orchestral piece in her mind, she felt a sort of imbalance between the sections. It wouldn’t be beyond the mad god to create such a reaction, however. It took only a glance from Octavia to see Luna was faring little better.

“Well,” a mature voice spoke up, one Octavia quickly identified as Celestia. “I suppose we mustn’t sit on ceremony for long. Though I do greatly appreciate the piece, sister. Time has not dulled your skill on the piano.” The gray alicorn raised her eyes to see the exchange between the sisters.

“I thank you, Sister,” Luna replied formally to her elder. “I… though I wish it was a piece that required less… energy to perform.”

“Nonsense,” Celestia dismissed her younger sibling easily. “You use enough of that in the realms of dreams. Better to see what you do, and then get to hear about later.” Octavia was taken aback at the depth of her statement.

“Um… excuse me?” A timid voice spoke up. Octavia knew it was Drifter before all eyes settled on him. Judging by the way he jumped, he was not prepared for all alicorns to focus on him. It was only made further and more painfully obvious by the uncomfortable swallowing motion he made.

“So… um… should I go now?”

Octavia, oddly, was happy to hear the request.

Author's Note

Apologies if the length of this chapter, in both time to release and time to read, are egregious, but I couldn't help it. There were too many character building moments and I had to use them all! Greedy like that I suppose.

Anyways, next chapter will probably not be as long, but depending on your point of you, FAR more fun. Will be for me at least! Questions comes after the next chapter, promises.

CHEERS!

The Verse: Part 2

Octavia was beside herself. Not with worry or trepidation, thankfully. Those were the furthest feelings from her mind.

She was amongst friends within the limits of a plot of land many would consider akin to paradise. The princesses were amongst their number, speaking easily and casually to the many ponies around her. More than that, she was not in hiding. Her top hat and heavy jacket were discarded, her wings and horn free to the open air around her. It was a liberating feeling.

She found herself breathing in the open air of the Canterlot Garden, a private and personal shrubbery of flora in the possession of the Equastrian Diarchy. It was still home to as many wondrous flowers and trees as the last time Octavia visited, when she had been learning how to fly with Luna and Ditzy. The same rainbow hued-flowers from the northern regions, desert cactus from outside Dodge Junction, and yew trees of many open plains, were present but this time Octavia spied a curious rose, blue in color and shade. She was sure that, with the thorns pulled out, it would have been a delicacy to taste.

There was peace in the garden that Octavia was hard pressed to say existed anywhere else. When she closed her eyes and relaxed her back, she could feel the wind softly flow about her, caressing her coat and combing her mane. It brought only the fragrance of the vegetation around her, mixing the many scents into a delightfully euphoric concoction. Her wings extended outwards, letting the soft breeze massage her stiff limbs. She cooed in appreciation.

But while Octavia was previously here with only the company of the Lunar Princess and clumsy-yet-dexterous pegasus before, now she was here with many more of her friends. With a small turn of her head, she saw Fiddlesticks and Vinyl speaking to Princess Twilight, the youngest of the princesses wearing a bright smile as she talked to the pair. Though introductions were made before the… performance Discord had given, time for conversation was short.

Another small twist and she saw both of the diarchs speaking to Ditzy Doo, the latter’s cheerful smile positively infectious. Both of the tall mares, crowned in their respective regalia, were smiling easily to the small pegasus, speaking of something Octavia couldn’t hear. Ditzy was easily the most animated of three, her wings fluttering with each motion she made, waving her hoofs as she doubtlessly told a story of her young foal. Celestia appeared enraptured with the story. Luna, by Octavia’s careful measure, looked as if she had heard the tale a dozen times before.

That left her, the youngest of the alicorns, enjoying the warm sun and fresh greens of the garden. Following the display that Discord had left them with, it was quite possibly the perfect way to pass the time. She smiled at the thought of letting her eardrums rest, her mind wander, and nature take its proper course. She listened to a soft cello in her head, allowing it to guide her magic and coax the muscles in her legs to relax. The wind was taking care of her outstretched limbs.

Yes, Octavia was relaxed, calm, in the rare sense of peace that usually only came with dreams. It was for that reason that she was beside herself.

She was bitterly waiting for chaos amidst the sweet peace.

Specifically, she was literally waiting for Discord to come swooping in -- which he promised he would -- bringing something insane and inane to surely twist the calm of the garden -- which he always would. Octavia let out a short sigh, not pleased with the idea.

“So, um… a bit for your thoughts?” The question came from next to her, earning a turn of Octavia’s head. She saw Drifter, sitting on the ground in a clearly uncomfortable position. His stiff posture and raised chin made it almost painfully obvious he was trying to imitate a guard of some kind. It would have been cute… if he was about half his size and age.

“Just lost in thought,” Octavia replied easily with an answer she knew was vague. “Just… thinking of what Discord plans to do to ruin this garden.” And like the ambiguity of her first answer, her next was clearly cynical. Those were not a good combination of words to have. Drifter, however, appeared undeterred. That, or he was simply unable to read the message.

“D-Does he plan to do that? I-I mean… w-well yeah, he’s… not subtle, b-but I don’t know if he’s destructive. A-At least, he wasn’t earlier.” Drifter continued to stutter, or more specifically, ramble as he spoke. He was far from the first pony Octavia had met with the penchant for saying more than necessary, but it was rare for a pony to be so unsure of himself, yet continue to speak. It was to be marveled, if nothing else.

“I did not mean to imply that I suspect a violent show,” Octavia clarified, silencing the single-winged pegasus. He was quick to focus his attention, another good point. “I merely know that he would not be so kind as to allow… the traditional sense of peace to last long.” Drifter chuckled at her words, nervously scratching the back of his mane with one hoof. He suddenly found a patch of grass oddly captivating.

“Y-Yeah, well… you’re probably not wrong there.” Octavia allowed a small smile at his words. Ditzy was right again. Drifter really was a kind stallion. “B-But I mean… what do I mean… ah! I mean th-that he’s probably gonna surprise us, yeah, but, like, he’ll be cool about it. That means -- I mean -- he’ll just bring something that you wouldn’t think of, or you thought was impossible, n-not that you think much is impossible.” The gray alicorn felt a small chuckle rumble through her larynx at the statement.

“Given the many things I have experienced as of late, it is hard for me to say much exists outside the realm of possibility.” She had admitted it before, if only within herself, but it felt different to admit the epiphany aloud. It was akin to playing a freshly crafted song for the first time. Refreshing, relieving, and simply satisfying.

“Oh, Octavia! I never knew we agreed on so much!”

And leave it Discord to dash all those feelings aside.

The gray alicorn felt herself groan, her wings limp at her sides. The voice of the Spirit of Disharmony rumbled behind her. She could already see Drifter turning around. He was likely already too far out of breath to gasp, or perhaps scream, in shock. Octavia turned around to gaze at the figure she knew would be floating there, her own eyes drooping and mouth drawn into an unimpressed frown. And there indeed was Discord, floating in the air as if lying on a hammock and staring at the pair with an amused, twisted grin.

“I’m almost disappointed,” Octavia spoke, hoping she could craft some form of barb to wound the draconequus. “I was expecting clouds of glass or a carriage made of bricks.” But rather than take offense to her words, the mad god only chuckled. Octavia tried not to imagine that he was simply entertained by her attempts.

“Oh, I did both of those before. Caused quite the worry for the solar butts over there,” Discord spoke, waving his claw at the pair of princess. Both now recognizing his presence. Octavia took some amount of satisfaction in seeing that neither of them were any more celebratory regarding his presence than she was. However, upon seeing Vinyl’s clearly excited expression, she supposed it was even. “Repeat performances are such a dull drag, no matter what they are. Songs, films, the theatre. There simply isn’t anything that can change. Or worse, you hope it doesn’t change.” Octavia watched as the long snake-like form of Discord shivered at the idea, literal icicles falling from him at the chill of his own words.

“I’ll take some comfort in knowing you’ll never attempt to surprise me on a train again,” Octavia noted, looking around long enough to see the rest of the ponies approaching.

The princess all approached with varying looks of calm indifference. The scale was almost perfectly balanced in the gray alicorn’s mind, with Luna at the end of apathy and Celestia appearing calm as a windless lake. Twilight sat in between the two.

It made sense, then, that her friends, hijacked and taken from the far reaches of Equestria, sat on a scale of uneasy awe. Fiddle was clearly the most unused to Discord’s presence; a small comfort for Octavia, seeing as their appearances differed only minimally. Vinyl, unfortunately, appeared more excitable than ever before. Perhaps it really did drain her to be inside a concert hall. Ditzy, the motherly mare, look more confused than anything else. Her wall-eyes did not help.

“Discord,” Celestia the most authoritative of any pony throughout the land, spoke first. “I am pleased that you allowed us to enjoy our garden, but I trust that any acts you hope to perform next will not endanger the plants and wildlife that roam here. Even chaos must be wary of tipping a balance too far.” Octavia wasn’t sure if she ever heard a threat so easily hidden behind such warm words.

“Oh, of course not,” Discord easily dismissed, his claw slicing through the air as if to cut the idea down. “I did that last millennium. It would simply be impolite to pull the same stunt twice. Octavia and I were just discussing this, though not in length. Would you care to join in?”

“Heck no!” The gray alicorn was a bit surprised to hear Vinyl be the one to shoot down Discord’s idea. Her next words, however, clearly explained why. “We wanna see what sweet gig you’ got cookin’ up now. I mean, it takes a lot to get DJ-PON3 rockin to an orchestra, but dang it if you didn’t give me a few new ideas.” The idea of Vinyl garnering ideas from Discord was a horrifying one in itself. That, expectedly, pleased the draconequus immensely.

“That’s wonderful!” The mad god exploded, once again in the most literal sense of the expression, into confetti. He popped back into existence not a moment later, hovering above the alabaster unicorn. An immensely unsettling twisted grin about his lips. Vinyl appeared to have one of her own, accented by her nearly-trademarked smirk and neon hair. “Oh, it always does my heart good to see ponies learning to love chaos. Tell me, what were you proposing? A bit of jazz with metal? Perhaps having a clown horn replace the tuba?”

“Naw. That’s amateur stuff.” Vinyl was working with Discord’s antics and ideas too easily for Octavia’s preference. Again, it was horrifying in itself. “I’m thinkin more like creating a grand Symphony with some electrical wires. Lets the strings bounce more while giving the drums a new job other than carrying the rest of the song. Put the bass in the lead, ya know?” Octavia was wrong. It was horrifying to see Discord nodding at Vinyl’s ideas.

“Oh, yes! Splendid!” He cheered for her again, wrapping about her until she was laying across his chest, staring up at him through her opaque shades. She took the sudden contact immensely well. Clubs likely prepared her for it. “I can see to arrange a few parts for the performance; maybe a few entertainers as well. Myself included.” He chuckled darkly at the words. Either Vinyl didn’t hear it or she was enjoying it.

“How ‘bout we get ta why we’re standin’ ‘round the pen?” Fiddle suddenly spoke up, her gleaming white hat tipped back to allow her a better view of the mad god. Octavia was joyed to see her doppelgänger taking charge. “Case ya’ll forgot, what with your whimy timy space jumpin’ thing, Ah got a whole orchard of apples ta task and manage, so time ain’t exactly a thing Ah can lick and spit.” Octavia could have done without that metaphor.

“I agree with Fiddlesticks,” Princess Luna spoke next. She was standing at her tallest, making her only third in line behind her sister and Discord. Octavia found herself hoping she would extend her wings, but either temperance or control kept her from doing so. “We are glad you are wishing to aide us, Discord, but please recognize that this schedule sits on more than just your own time.”

“I’m well aware of that, your dark grace,” Discord mocked with agreement, something that only he would have the courage to do. The growl that came from Luna was not unexpected. Rather, Octavia nearly felt herself copy the action. “In fact, the guest I found is likely the most aware of time’s constrictions and delays. Comes with his territory.”

Him. That was something, at least. His occupation was unfortunately hidden by Discord’s careful words, but unless the pony he brought was beyond understanding, that wouldn’t be too difficult to deduce. To be aware of time meant some form of manager; perhaps a business head, or, more appropriately, a conductor. That thought made Octavia’s hopes, and even her wings, slightly rise.

To have a conductor, and a true one at that, work with her through her meters would help immensely. She would speak no ill words of the good that had come from her playing with other instruments, but a conductor knew how to take the raw talent of a mare’s song and fine tune it into a melody worthy of sonnets. That would be wonderful.

“Then where is he?” Vinyl spoke up with a question, slightly jarring Octavia from her musings. “I mean, kinda hard to play with someone if they’re not even here. Recordings don’t count. I know, I’ve tried.” Octavia had no doubt about that. Discord seemed only lightly amused by her words, as he was by near all things. The gray alicorn found herself wishing for some of Princess Celestia’s wisdom, so that she may be able to bring a scowl to that already twisted grin.

“Oh, he’s on his way. Had to pop in and give him the means for travel, promise a few conditions, lightly imply that the fate of the world was at stake.” One of those three was not like the other. Fortunately, Princess Luna wasted no time.

“You did what?” She dark alicorn asked with a surprisingly calm tone, though Octavia had the suspicion it was due more to surprise than actual serenity. It was with equal amounts of dread that she heard Discord’s laughter, telling her that he knew the same.

“Did I not mention that?” He lightly asked, twisting in the air as if lying around a cloud. “He’s an awfully busy fellow, so the quickest way to bring him here was to make it a priority. So many things are so concerned with fate that it was honestly all too easy.”

“Now that’s not very nice.” The cellist had a form of reserved joy in hearing Ditzy cajoling the draconequus. Somehow, she suspected the motherly mare would say what Discord wouldn’t expect. She had yet to see if that was for better or worse. “Ponies are awfully busy. It isn’t right to interrupt their schedule with a lie like that. You need to apologize to him when he gets here.” Judging by the draconequus’s laughter, definitely worse.

“Please don’t misunderstand. I simply deplore lying. It’s either too predictable or simply boring, neither being qualities I enjoy.” Discord waved his paw in the air as he spoke. Octavia nearly missed the cloud he beat away at the gesture. She hoped it was his figurative thoughts.

“Wait... so then… does that mean ya’ll are gonna… destroy the world, ‘er somethin’?” Fiddle, unfortunately, brought up a horrifying good point. It took only a glance to her side to see that Drifter was only a few words away from passing out. The princesses had similar thoughts, but with their horns alight and forms hunched, they were approaching the problem in a much more refined, and hopefully superior, manner.

“Calm down, calm down,” Discord spoke through his own chuckles, claw waving towards the ground. “Your glares are so hot that I’m beginning to overheat.” As if to comically prove his point once more, Discord snaked one of the talons of his claw under the nape of his neck, between the junction of his fur and scales. Pulling on it, a cloud of steam rose from him. It seemed almost inappropriate, but Octavia couldn’t clearly identify why. Perhaps it was because it was Discord who made the action in the first place.

“Then please,” Princess Celestia spoke, her tone bordering on discipline and amusement. It was a skill that Octavia was eager to learn. “Do enlighten us about the threat against the world.”

“Oh, it’s not the world,” Discord spoke with a trace of his paw and claw in a circle, a mass of dirt and water forming as he spoke. It was rather easy to figure out what he was forming. But just as soon as it was made, he snapped his talons and banished the creation with a light bang. “It’s just someone’s world. Care to guess who?’”

With his mismatched gaze, twisted smile, and knowing wink to his eyes, Octavia was sure she had never been caught more between wrath and embarrassment before. Even Vinyl had yet to sink to such depths. She feared what Discord’s influence would have upon their future conversations.

She opened her mouth to say such to Discord, but was stopped by an unexpected sight. It was one she was slightly confident Discord’s magic was not behind, though do only to his lack of movement.

Up above them, a small trail of light descended from a spot in the sky she could not identify, coloured like a rainbow and sparkling like stars. It reached the ground like lightning, though it brought with it nary a sound. Octavia averted her attention long enough to see Drifter staring at it with wonder, the lights reflecting adoringly in his eyes. The same effect was hidden through Vinyl’s shades, but with her usual wry smile. Even the princesses, of day, night, and friendship, were leaning towards the dancing stars, but without taking a step closer.

Then, as unexpectedly as their arrival, they began to glow brighter. Octavia shielded her eyes with her wing, hoof raised as well through instinct. But, as quickly as Discord’s magic, the flash was gone. Octavia lowered her wing, preparing herself however she could for the new sight that she would behold.

When the gray alicorn’s eyes laid on the new figure, she knew she was not prepared enough.

She did not expect to see a pony, as such would be too predictable for Discord’s standards. She thought of a griffon, creatures more suited towards brash actions, a fitting choice for Discord to surprise her with. The idea of a crystal pony was not far out of reach either, as nothing would be more surprising than a musician from a thousand years ago.

But what Octavia saw was like nothing she had ever seen throughout all of Equestria, in fictional tales or the memories of reality.

Standing where the light once danced was a bipedal creature, legs straight as the trunk of a tree and dressed in clothes just as green. It towered over her, standing at a height easily double hers, and with a level of ease that dumbfounded the gray alicorn. Clothed in green as it was, it wore undergarments of white, covering what little its clothes did not. Dark brown boots were on its rear hooves, but golden ones were over its fore hooves, hooves that were digited not unlike Discord’s claw and paw.

Octavia saw more than just the creatures size and color. She saw its facial features, smooth and shaped not far unlike her own, though with a face far flatter than her own. Its ears pointed out from the side of its head, not standing atop as was the norm. No, instead a long equally green hat was on its head, falling down to the nape of its neck, as least Octavia assumed that it was its neck, given how short it was.

But what truly captivated the alicorn were the creature’s eyes. They were staring forward, blue as the sky and wide with curiosity, not fear, anger, or any other emotion she might have had disdain for. It appeared… confused, misplaced even. The latter of the two was more correct than she initially gave credit for.

It was all so… alien. Only the smallest details of the creature assured Octavia that it was alive, perhaps intelligent, otherwise she had no more idea of what to think of thing before her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Fiddlesticks, her yellow doppleganger, looking likely as shocked as Octavia felt. The farm pony had pushed the brim of her white had back far enough to let it fall from her head, held on her neck by the string that tied it. Vinyl’s shades nearly mirrored the action, falling down the bridge of her snout until her eyes were as easy to see as her neon mane.

A short thump received Octavia’s attention, rewarded with the sight of Drifter on the ground, his consciousness likely gone at this point. Octavia could not fault him in the slightest. She felt light on her hooves herself.

“Well, I’m pleased to see you’ve arrived without a hitch.” Discord spoke an almost diabetically sweet voice. It earned the creature’s attention and, just barely, that of the other mares as well. Drifter was still adrift in his dreams. “And I do apologize if I gave the wrong impression about the world being in danger and all that. I was just being told how improper that was of me.” The draconequus wiped a tear from its eye. Octavia had to stare at it for a moment longer to realize that it was in the shape of a crocodile.

“Wait, you mean there’s nothing wrong here!” The high pitched voice shook Octavia from any stupor she had. It did not belong to any of the ponies present, of that she was sure. Discord would not answer himself in such a manner, at least not without making a grand and superfluous show about it. But… did a creature as tall as this really possess a voice belonging to that of a filly?

Octavia’s silent question was quickly answered when a ball of light flew out from behind the creature. There was little more that Octavia could use to describe it. It was literally a ball of light, shimmering like a bulb too bright with large insectial wings. It shook in the air in a manner not far different than Octavia imagined a clenched hoof to appear as. Was it… mad? No wait, was it what talked? She resisted the urge to ask if she saw a parasprite, for her instinctual concern of being offensive. There were too many questions and she was starting to loathe Discord’s love of them.

“I wouldn’t say nothing is wrong. There is always something that needs repair, especially when you live in a dull and drab world.” Discord chuckled at his voice, eyes momentarily closing as he relished his humorless joke. But when he opened them, he focused his mismatched gaze on the floating ball, leaning in until the difference in their stature was more than evident, like comparing a grain of rice to a racket ball. “I simply required your assistance, and who better to help out a few princesses than the Hero of Time?”

Discord quite physically threw out his arms at the statement. They flew off of him and around the tall creature. Octavia watched as said creature took a defensive stance, hunching over and reaching for something along its back, crystal blue eyes darting in surprise. She could not blame him. It only got worse when Discord’s flying limbs exploded. The creature let out a gasp as it turned, facing the direction where the two explosions came from, only to be showered by colorful confetti.

As the creature looked up at the floating display, the mares present got a better look at him, or more specifically his back. It was hard to see before, him facing them with a confused look and obvious curiosity, but along its back was a broad shield and sword, the latter contained neatly in its sheath. While the sword was hidden away, the shield was plain to see, detailing a coat of arms that Octavia and the princess, by the apparently confused looks, were not aware of.

“That is not funny!” The same high pitched voice shouted. Octavia turned towards the ball of light… looking twice to see it bouncing off of Discord’s goat-like face with an apparent anger. “We came here to help you cause you said there was a princess in trouble! All I see are a bunch of colorful ponies!”

“Oh do calm down, Tatl. Anger simply doesn’t suit you.” By the chiming of the ball of light, Octavia could only assume Discord was poking its buttons. That, and the gray alicorn was already used to the draconequus’s antics. But Tatl, that was the thing’s name. It was interesting, but still good to know.

“Oooh no, anger suits me just fine. Especially when something like you shows up and starts putting people like us on wild goose chases!” The ball of light continued to reprimand the mad god, and Octavia felt her respect for the creature increasing with every word. Then she saw the taller creature, the one who had appeared first from the light.

It was facing the two, its fore limbs held upwards in an almost pleading gesture. Octavia was oddly familiar with the look, as she herself had adopted it amongst the many introductions she had in Vinyl’s company. It was made to make clear that the actions of her friend were not to be taken at face value. Perhaps they meant much the same to the green clothed figure.

“Excuse me,” Octavia heard Luna’s voice, mixed between authority and politeness. She was sure it was well-practiced from many royal meetings. She did not need to look far to see the dark alicorn approaching the green figure, her statue tall and regal, though still slightly smaller than that of the new guest. By Octavia’s eyes, Luna made up for it with a slight extension of her wings. Not fully, no, but enough to make it obvious that they were there, their size was large, and she was not to be ignored. The creature looked back at her, blinking once before turning to face her.

“My name is Princess Luna, Princess of the Night and Diarch of Equestria.” The title felt heavily practiced to Octavia’s perked ears. It took only a moment longer before her sister moved next to her, equal in height to the creature though taller than Luna herself.

“And I am Princess Celestia, Princess of the Day and fellow Diarch of Equestria.” The creature stared at the two for a moment, likely debating what action to take. Silence was kept at bay only by the small ball of light’s, Tatl’s, verbal assault on Discord. None had a mind to stop it.

But then the creature wore a relaxed expression, facing the members of royalty. Easily as a hoofshake, the creature performed the familiar expression across all kingdoms, a bow. He bent at its assumed waist, lowering itself in honor of the two. Octavia could hear a breath of relief, and it took her a moment to realize it was her own.

“I apologize on behalf of Discord for his deceitful manners. It is unfortunately not alien of him to act in such a way, but you deserved no part in his game.” The creature started to wave its forelimbs again, back and forth as if denying the princess’s words. He then pointed to himself, the rest of his digits enclosing as he did so, before pointing towards Tatl, the small ball of light still reprimanding Discord.

He spoke not a word.

“I… apologize, but I do not understand.” Luna admitted to the creature. “May you perhaps speak of what you mean? I assure you there are no needs for proper etiquette. You are a surprise guest within our land.” Octavia watched as the creature raised its hands again, making small gestures that the alicorn, and apparently none of the mares, recognized.

“Sorry, he doesn’t talk a lot.” The little ball of light spoke casually, very casually, to the princesses. It floated around the creature’s head, stopping only when it was above him, like the bulb of a grand idea. “Might not look it, but he’s a shy guy. I handle most of the talking for him.” Octavia was simultaneously intrigued and horrified by the idea, namely because she could not imagine a mare such as Vinyl speaking on her behalf.

“So introductions,” Tatl let out before dropping slightly, flying agilely around the creature’s head again. “This is Link, Hero of Time and Knight of Hyrule.” The creature, Link as he was now named, bent at its legs. It was a bow, of course, Octavia recognized the action, but it was different than the one he made earlier.

“And, just cause I know where the next questions are gonna be going, we’re not from around here, likely anywhere around here. We’re in the middle of looking for one Link’s old adventuring companions, so going to new places and seeing new faces, or bodies, isn’t too outside the norm for us.” That explained his ease around their presence, simultaneously explaining their own.

“We are honored to meet you both, Link and Tatl,” Luna spoke again, her voice both royal and kind, full of authority and charm. Octavia could not help the wandering thought that Luna was used to meeting creatures of such strange origins. Her thoughts turned, however, when she saw the dark alicorn turn her gaze to the grinning draconequus. “Now Discord, pray tell why you have manipulated the arrival of our guests.” There was no question in her command.

“Would you believe I asked him to slay a dragon?” Octavia heard a surprised gasp come from Princess Twilight, and it took her just as long to remember the young dragon in her care. The heated glares on the twisted creature only made him chuckle.

“Don’t joke like that, Discord.” The gray alicorn had to turn head in minor surprise, unused to hearing such venom from the words of the youngest of the princesses. The furrowed brow and lit horn did nothing but add to an impressively threatening visage.

However, Octavia noticed that Link appeared unperturbed, looking from the various mares with only passive curiosity, not looking to take any action. He even had his forelegs folded over his chest, appearing comfortable with the position, a mute line over his lips. Then his eyes fell on her, and she could see he was taking note of her. It was an odd feeling, so quickly being put on the opposite end of what she was just doing.

“How about I introduce you two?” A flash of light was all the warning Octavia had before she felt a claw place itself over her head. She felt a scowl immediately turn her on her lips. She should have known better than putting her attention anywhere else than the mad god.

“This is Octavia Melody, a master cellist and a freshly made alicorn, hot out of the oven if memory serves.” The gray alicorn felt her cheeks rush with heat at the statement. She saw one of Link’s brows raise, Tatl ringing lightly as she flew in quick waves through the air.

“Alright big guy, time to take a step back,” the fairy spoke with confidence to the mad god, whose figure was large enough to dwarf her in size. “Put your paw up and eyes elsewhere, or else Link here might really start showing off his skills.”

Octavia could not help but imagine Tatl with Vinyl’s shades. The two were identical in more ways than she could have thought. But if that was true… then… wait…

“Discord,” Octavia spoke lowly, a tone she hoped came off as threatening. She was pleasantly surprised to feel the weight of the draconequus lift from her head, allowing the gray alicorn to adjust her mane briefly before turning head towards him. He was floating upside down in the air, eyes staring at her with their mismatched gaze, blue sky behind him.

She debated quickly about saying nothing more, about allowing the mad god to continue to spin and weave his own little game with the mares and newly arrived guest, but she thought better of it. Instead, she decided to play Discord’s game against him. He could turn assumptions back on the questioner, make reality his toy. It was best to not ask questions about him, but about others. Octavia knew the perfect one.

“Is Link like me?”

Her sentence brought a silence to the garden, interrupted only by the light breeze. Like statutes of the garden, all were frozen; the plants have more motion than the ponies present. The tree leaves rustled above them, the calls of small animals ignorant of the words spoken, but the mares and draconequus present filled with varying levels of confusion and surprise.

She could see her yellow-coated double raising brows and the brim of her hat, Vinyl next to her lowering her shades. Both were more easily confused, appearing to have heard gibberish come from Octavia. Twilight and Ditzy, however, both had their eyes slightly wide, the latter with hooves over her mouth and falling to her rump. The princesses both exchanged glances, sharing a quick and silent conversation before turning eyes to Discord, awaiting his answer in kind. Drifter was still unconscious on the ground.

She noticed that Link had raised his brows, blinking in either confusion or misunderstanding. Tatl, meanwhile, rang out brightly, likely an expression of her flustered state. No words escaped her at least. Discord, however, only began to chuckle darkly, lower than his usual jovial self, though he lacked nothing in mirth.

“Oh Octavia, will you ever cease to bring me joy?” Octavia believed she understood the meaning behind the words, but she tried not to dwell on them, afraid of what other answer may be. “Look at you, a mare known only for her cello a few months ago, and now wings, horn, and a bit of wisdom to boot.” Somehow he was now holding a boot. If it was anyone else, Octavia would have been confused.

“I know you well enough to know there is a method to your… chaos,” Octavia chose the word carefully. Discord did love his chaos. The sparkling of his mismatched red eyes was more than indication.

“And how you do!” Discord let out with clear delight, throwing the boot over his shoulder as he did so. Octavia watched as it fell into the sky, disappearing out of sight. She hoped it stayed up there. “I was expecting inquires about my mindset or thoughts, as if those could ever get a straight answer out of me.”

“What about you is straight?” Octavia couldn’t hide the coy grin as she heard Vinyl’s voice make a jab at the draconequus. It was a welcome change from the playful talk the two had been exchanging before. “You know how to have fun while goin’ down and dirty.” Maybe she was going too far now. That was before she heard Discord fire back with his own comment.

“If only ponies were as open to change as you were, young Vinyl. Then we could all enjoy a little roll in the mud.” It was as if Tatl’s ringing was a sign for how hot Octavia felt her cheeks grow. It only took a sideways glance to see that Link was faring little better, his dull talons about his face as if to hide himself. Alike indeed.

“Okay, no, stop!” The fairy let out before she flew up to Discord again, bouncing harmlessly off of his forehead. “You’re nothing but a rude snob that sent Link and I on almost exact definition of a wild goose chase all for you to throw out a few crude jokes!” Octavia felt Tatl would have made a great friend at parties. “Give us one good reason, just one, why we should not pick up our things and be on our way!”

Octavia was not surprised to see the coy twisted smile about Discord’s lips, just as she was not surprised to hear him start to chuckle in a knowing manner. She only took in a slow breath of air, doing her utmost to prepare herself for whatever the mad god had planned.

“Because I want to see what happens when two forms of musical magic collide.”

She was not prepared for that. Judging by the sudden motion Link took, neither was he.

“Wait, whose music is magic now?” Fiddle asked curiously, looking from Link to Discord with a squint in one of her eyes. “Ain’t no secret between us that Octavia’s got some magical flare to her music, but what’s this bare-coat minotaur got? The same thing?” While crudely asked, it was a question that Octavia was curious of.

Her eyes turned to Link, and it was clear she was not alone in the action. The green garbed creature looked between them, though not with any sense of embarrassment or unease. He was far from absorbed with the attention, his eyes still looking amongst them with a blank face, but he didn’t show any signs Octavia would have assumed of a stranger in strange lands. No nervous twitch, no glances for exits, no rambling, though with an excuse for him. He was, in a word, very brave.

“Link, do you possess magic through music?” It was a very blunt question, if ever Octavia heard one, but it was more surprising with who spoke it. Luna, no less regal in appearance than anytime before, walking forward with strength in her gait. The creature looked back at her, silent as the moment he appeared. “I ask this question because a dear friend of mine has found her own magic through music, and is now seeking guidance to master it.”

Octavia would be hard pressed to tell another what the princess had said. She stopped listening after she was referred to as a dear... friend.

She could already feel a warm blush run across her cheeks, wings lightly twitching with the desire to rise. Even her mouth felt dry, forcing her to lick her lips, head angled down to hide the otherwise improper gesture. There were no illusions to her that she and the princess were anything but close, being one of a few mares allowed to enter her court unperturbed and have council in her private chambers.

But like a pair of lovers confirming their feelings with words spoken aloud, it carried a different kind of weight, one where the words were not empty notes in a grand symphony, but the bridge that connected was once was to what is. The elaborate metaphor only made Octavia’s blush warmer.

“I’m gonna shoot in the ever vibrant dark and say that Octavia is the dear friend, right?” Tatl’s words were nothing if not blunt, and nothing if not what Vinyl would say. Perhaps the two were soulmates of different worlds.

“She is, but she has been thrown into circumstances beyond her control, for reasons we do not know.” There was no doubt that Luna had venom for their lack of knowledge. It was a feeling mutually shared amongst many in the group of mares. “But we are doing all that we can to teach her of the new gifts that she has been given, and it was only in that training we found her magic to be of the soul, music, and bringing others together.” There was just as much doubt that Luna had pride in those words.

“Huh, that does sound a little like you, Link.” The comment made Octavia stare at the green clothed creature, looking back at the fairy with a sad knowing smile. “Yeah, a kid tasked with ridding the land of evil, spending years looking for a lost friend, finding yourself along the way. Kinda rings a few bells.” As if to emphasize the point, the fairy run herself in the air, lightly bouncing as she did so. It made Link laugh.

Hearing him laugh was something Octavia did not expect. She thought him a mute, unable to speak due to a defect at birth or injury thereafter. It was not unheard, though pitiful as it was. But to hear him laugh at his companion’s words, a sad laugh at that, banished those assumptions. So why then, did he not speak?

“So, magic music, huh?” Octavia’s thoughts were derailed as the fairy flew up to her, stopping only when she was at the bridge of her snout. The light was nearly blinding. “So what do ya do? Can’t imagine you can play a lot with just your hooves. Unless it’s the drums, do you play the drums?” Octavia felt herself fluster at the words.

“I will have you know that I play the cello for the Canterlot Orchestra, first chair and rising star amongst the Melody Family.” She could hear Vinyl stifling a chuckle, that or a comment. She was glad her friend held either in.

“Yeah, and she’s really good, too.” Octavia and Tatl turned to see Ditzy approaching, a blissful smile upon her lips, just beneath her walled-eyes. “She can play her cello and make a bunch of amazing things happen. Or she can just listen to songs, and make them do a lot of cool things too.”

“That’s… really descriptive.” Ditzy beamed at the obvious slight to her words. “So... what kinda cool things happen?”

“Oh oh! She can make the music come to life! Make it dance around the room and move like a ballet!” Ditzy seemed wholly more excited explaining her magic than Octavia thought she would. She hadn’t thought her friends had anything more than a passive interest in her abilities, perhaps aside from Vinyl. It was… nice to know that they were equally energized by it.

“That’s pretty sweet,” Tatl replied, lightly bobbing in the air, bit by bit toward Ditzy. She may have only been a ball of light, but Octavia knew a confident trot when she saw it, or flight in this case. The little fairy was going to say some form of achievement on Link’s party, something that would either be grand or unexpected. She turned to see the green clothed creature looking tiredly at the ground, utterly done with his friends antics. Perhaps he was her double in another world, like Tatl to Vinyl. It was holding an unacceptably large amount of sense.

“But can she travel through time?” Wait, what?

“Beg yer pardon?” “Whoa, through time?” “Oh my stars.” “Oh my sun.” “Oh my gosh!” The collective voices of her friends all spoke their own phrases of disbelief. She would have joined in as well, uttering the impossibilities, were she not focused on Link. He gave not a tell nor indication of lie. Only the appearance that he wished what was being said to be a secret. She could safely assume that was difficult with a friend named Tatl. She only hoped there were few tales that came with her.

“I can vouch for the little lady,” Discord spoke up next, popping up next to Tatl and Link with his own flash of light. He leaned against the tall creature swiftly, forcing Link to raise hands to the limb resting on him. “Link here uses magic through music like our dearest Octavia, but with a bit of a catch. He doesn’t get music through magic. He uses music to cast magic!” There was a loud gasping noise that echoed through the gardens, making Octavia momentarily jump. It took her that long to see the sudden crowd of Discords again arranged around them, all wearing expressions of disbelief. They vanished in puffs of smoke soon after, to her small relief.

“How can you do that?” Princess Twilight asked next. Octavia could not miss the seemingly predatory glint in her eyes. “Time traveling theory states that it is impossible to access time’s travel more than once per individual due to the paradoxes created and tendency for time to favor the initial path of commitment, started by-” She was silenced by a golden-clad hoof across her lips. It took only a glance upwards to see Princess Celestia beside her, a kind but knowing smile looking down on her former protegee.

“What we meant to ask,” the princess began. “Is how you are able to do this, as time travel is something that requires a great deal of magic and training.”

“Funny you should ask,” Tatl spoke up again, literally buzzing with what Octavia assumed excitement. That, or pride. “He can also call friends across worlds, warp across lands, and raise or lower the sun.” That last one hit a snag.

A dark and suddenly insulted snag with a powerful wing span. Said snag made its presence rather clear as it glared darkly at Link.

“You,” Luna began, staring at the green clothed creature who had yet to do more than blink or tilt his head towards the conversation, “can manipulate our moon and sun?” He didn’t respond. Not immediately.

Instead, he looked into the sky, up to the sun that sat proudly above them. It glowed across the blue sky, no cloud yet between them and it, letting the warm blanket of its touch wash over them. A gust of wind passed by them, offsetting any great warmth they felt with a pleasant chill. Octavia watched as Link took in a deep breath of air, clearly enjoying the sensation.

Then, looking back towards the princess, he nodded with a confident, somewhat child-like smile.

“But how?” The princess spoke again. There was no snarl or venom to her tone, not as far as Octavia could hear. Only a pressing curiosity, one she was sure the others shared. Except perhaps the draconequus who likely pulled all the strings necessary to make this happen. Link, however, appeared no more disturbed or worried before the princesses than Discord did. That courage was only emphasized when he reached behind him, into his bag, and pulled out a small hoof-sized object.

It was small and blue, oval in shape, fitting neatly across the brown leather of Link’s gloves. It had a shine to it not much different than the finish Octavia was used to seeing in professionally crafted instruments, but aside from that it was alien to her. It was too short to be a flute, angled too greatly to be a recorder, and too simple in shape to belong to any section of brass, let alone its apparent design being made of wood.

It had a symbol upon what Octavia believed to be the windpipe, jutting out from the otherwise perfectly carved pearl shape. A metal band wrapped around it, gold in color and etched with fine lines. It had another symbol across the center, of three golden triangles, positioned in a row of one then two.

“Okay, looks cool,” Vinyl said simply, adjusting her glasses as she eyed it. “But what, does it summon some super mare to spin the world around and turn time?”

“What kind of question is that?” Tatl immediately shot back at the unicorn. With one’s dark shades and the others bright light, Octavia couldn’t tell if they were staring at each other or not. “This is the Ocarina of Time, a great and magical tool blessed by the goddess of time. It can play songs of power, letting Link form any kind of magic he wants with the music. Do you have too much gel in your hair to be able to think straight about it?” Insults, great… Octavia groaned as she knew where this was going. Her perked ears picked up a similar sound come from Link.

“At least I can see straight enough to know that three of the most powerful mares in all of Equestria don’t recognize that thing. I bet you're too blind with an ego to see that. You’re literally glowing about yourself.” Octavia had to admit, that was a more thoughtful insult than she would have given her friend credit for, though poorly delivered.

“Hey, hey!” Fiddlesticks, to Octavia’s modest surprise, walked in between the bickering pony and fairy. “There ain’t no reason ta start spittin’ names like that. We’re all just a little lost in the orchard ‘bout this business here is all, alright?” The farm pony directed her gaze towards Vinyl, who only snorted away a stray hair of her neon mane. Fiddlesticks turned to Tatl, only to have the fairy ring and turn her wings toward the pair.

“This reminds me of one of Dinky’s friends.” The whisper drew Octavia’s attention, turning to see Ditzy leaning in close to her; close enough that she herself was nearly leaning away. She was unsurprised, though slightly offset, by the sudden intrusion to her personal space. “We always say that opposites attract, so by that logic, identicals must repel.”

And once again, Octavia was offset by the wisdom of Dinky’s words, though slightly harmed in the delivery.

“Oh, come now, you two,” Discord, even more surprisingly, interrupted the pair. Dressed in the black and white garb of a referee, he pushed the mare and fairy away from one another, standing between with his tall stature. Octavia immediately wanted to know what he wanted to gain by ending a fight. “If you two keep this up, we may never get to hear the musicians play.”

Ah, so that was it.

Octavia felt eyes fall on her, though only briefly. Just as quickly they turned to Link, standing still in his green garb and ocarina in his dull claw. He seemed no more surprised by the sight of Tatl fighting than Octavia did Vinyl. She opened her mouth to say as much, but was stopped by a loud pop from behind her. The flash that accompanied it told her all that she needed to. She whirled, ready to tell Discord to stop his magical antics about her, only to see that he had brought something with him this time, something she implicitly knew.

Sitting the crux of his arm, held in a surprisingly careful state, was her cello.

It was the midnight cello, the one gifted to her by the princess of the night. Though they were in the garden amongst a mid-summer’s heat, it still looked cold to the touch, absorbing the light of the sun and leaving only the cool blanket of the night. The stars that dotted and littered the canvas sparkled beneath the rays, giving it a beauty she did not recognize in an enclosed room.

The mad god set it down before her, letting holding its neck properly. He bowed to her, silent as stone, and held out his other paw to her. In it was her bow, strung accordingly and taunt in preparation. Octavia glanced at it momentarily, unsure if she should so easily take an offer from a deity that had fun with tricks and misconceptions. But as her hoof touched it, feeling the same strength in the wood as before, she saw the draconequus snap none of talons or offer any mischievous grins.

Octavia shot a glance at Link. The stage was theirs.

She took the bow in hoof, pulling the cello to herself as well. It was comfortable, that much she easily and readily understood. Comfortable here in the midst of a garden, full of life and wonder, even compared to the scenery of her room or stage. She felt… peaceful, right even.

“So, I was thinking,” Discord began to speak again, in a voice Octavia assumed he was trying to make… well, non-trying. “If we had two musicians specialized in casting magic with their music, what would we get? I don’t even want to imagine the possibilities. I want to sit back, put up my tail and wings, and watch whatever magic they make takeover.” That did seem like a Discord sort of plan. But… it was one that Octavia felt oddly curious about herself.

She looked at Link, who gazed back at her. They had spoke not a word to one another so far, their conversations being led by those around them, friends all alike. Yet, they were the ones meant to carry this forward. Octavia’s magic, granted by a force they had not yet devised. Link’s ocarina, gifted by a goddess and containing power that Tatl spoke of as if legend.

Octavia watched him for a moment longer, and it was in that moment that he smiled at her, letting a light sound of approval swim from his lips. He nodded his head, waving his golden bangs as he did so. It was his admission, his approval, for the activity. Octavia felt her own grin pull at her lips, not one to turn away a chance to play with a master.

She stood to her tallest, letting her wings adjust to the light breeze of the garden, taking on the familiar posture aside her cello, her new cello. The bow fell across the strings, lightly bouncing on their lengths before settling. Her eyes fluttered, ready to slide shut and let the music rule her again, but she stopped.

Octavia refocused her gaze, hesitating to play before the guest. She saw Vinyl and Luna watching her, one having the slightest amount of excitement upon her features, the other covered in it. Both of their eyes were on her, but they were the only ones. Fiddlesticks, Ditzy Doo, Princess Celestia, and Princess Twilight had their eyes on Link and his fairy companion. Octavia stared at him as well.

He had the oddly shaped instrument to his lips, the protruding element stuck between them. Just as she so often played, his eyes were shut, and his tall body swaying back and forth. No sound yet came from him, not song that Octavia could hear, but it was just as easy for her to tell why. He was not dancing in place for a song, he was setting a rhythm, a beat, a track to keep himself on pace, like a silent metronome.

Then he began to play.

BEGIN

It was a hollow sound, as Octavia expected of a wooden instrument, yet one that carried above the wind with ease. Much like a whistle, it rose in volume as it did pitch, each not louder than the next. But there were only three notes.

It was much faster than the gray alicorn expected, as well as majority of the other mares present. Though not insultingly so. A three fourths time measure, two eighth notes followed by a half note, a note that hung in the air above the gentle breeze. But the song quickly grew. It carried the same measure, the same beat, quick notes followed by long ones, each as important as the one before it, but never dimming in repetition. If anything, the frequency of it made it all the more appealing.

But… something began to change. It was not her magic acting, of that much she knew. There were no thoughts that traveled through her mind, thoughts that so easily became reality with the wave of music’s wand. Even then, her horn was unlit.

It was hard for Octavia to put her hoof on, especially with a bow in her hand and cello wrapped up in her wings, but she knew something was different, changing. She looked over to see Discord only grinning madly, chomping on a bucket full of glass. She saw the Ditzy waving her head, enjoying the song like a foal’s recital, Vinyl bobbing her head in much the same manner. Fiddle had adopted to lower her head, relaxing to the song as the gray alicorn suspected you were supposed to.

Even the princesses didn’t seem any more perturbed than Octavia felt. Twilight had, at some point, taken to lying on the ground, enjoying the song as Link echoed it across the garden. Her head waved as if being lulled. Celestia was just beside her, the alabaster alicorn’s larger carriage nearly wrapping about the smaller princess.

Luna, however, had her eyes elsewhere. There were not trained on the green garbed creature, playing a simple and simply captivating song. They were to the sky, with a furrowed brow near hidden beneath her dark mane. Octavia stared at her, mildly confused. Then she mimicked the princess, turning her gaze skywards. It was easy to tell then why she felt something was different.

The clouds above were not the peaceful white, but a foreboding gray. There was no sun to lightly warm their coats, hidden now by the blanket that near covered the sky. It wasn’t even long before the breeze began to change, turning from a simple relief of heat to a chilling wind. The thunder that rolled above them made it clear what had changed.

A storm was here.

END

BEGIN ANEW!

“Whoa!” Octavia had no surprise that Vinyl was the first to scream. “Whoa whoa whoa! It’s raining! It’s freaking raining!” A clap of thunder echoed above the mare, bringing a small shirking shriek from the group. Octavia assumed it was Ditzy, hoping the mare was faring well. “And thunder too! Like holy ghosts and alicorn wings, what did you do?!” The alabaster mare finished pointing towards Link.

The adventure said nothing in turn, as Octavia suspected, instead only smiling through the dampness that began to collect over him. He looked oddly peaceful in the rain. Almost as if it didn’t bother him. Not even his small fairy friend, a creature that should have doubtlessly seen the downpour as torment of sorts, floated through it with ease, oddly silent given Vinyl’s near challenging words.

Though… now that she thought of it… Octavia didn’t mind the rain either.

It was ruining her long mane and coat, destroying the careful treatment she usually prided in having for her coat and strands. The untreated water landed upon her, running and pilfering any conditioner or sweet shampoo that she had lathered through herself before, turning it all into naught but puddles on the ground.

Even her cello, she knew, was in danger of the rain. Though near immaculately carved and painted, by the princess’s commands no less, it was still wood, and therefore, still able to warp and rot. And yet, it seemed as unbothered by the waterfall as she was. It pattered across the smooth surface, rolling away as easily as it had landed, as if knowing it was not meant to bring harm.

Thunder rolled above them, a gentle rumble that Octavia felt vibrate through her, dissipating as it traveled through her wings. She expanded them, lifting off of her dark cello as she did so, all in a fluid natural motion. A soft hum came from beside her, and she turned to see Luna mimicking the action, save for one key difference.

There was a serene smile across her face. Not the excited grin she adorned when Octavia made small progress, nor the civilized smirk she brought so often to conversations the gray alicorn swore were practiced. It was, calm, peaceful, upon her lips for no reason other than to express her peace. With wings folded out, mane dampened enough to no longer flow ethereally, and head raised into the air, Octavia knew she felt the same peace in the mane as she did.

“This is… w-wow.” The cellist heard the words just above the rain, turning head lightly enough to see Princess Twilight Sparkle staring into the sky, either ignorant or enjoying the water that fell upon her gaze. “Th-The sudden condensation of the air in conjunction with frictional elements… I… I-I don’t even know where the water supply came from, m-maybe evaporation of small bodies, b-but it doesn’t… it…”

Octavia proceeded to watch with non-malicious amusement as Twilight Sparkle, the supposed most well-read of all the princesses, rambled in the rain. Princess Celestia, however, was still upon the ground, her actions near mimicking her younger sister, with wings wide and head held high.

“Not what you expected, is it?” Octavia almost felt the peace leave her when she heard Discord’s voice whisper above her, almost. She turned her head up, near enjoying the rain that fell across her muzzle as she did so. Another roll of thunder from above brought another quiver to her wings, and with the quiver came the return of her peace. It was probably the only thing that kept her control at the sight that she beheld.

She still saw Discord, still floating the air as jovially as a foal in a dream. She still saw the horns on his head, his donkey-long face, his mismatched eyes, and his long protruding tooth. But we saw as well, so surprising and so unlike what she expected, was the calm grin across his features. Calm, peaceful, dare she think… harmonious.

“It’s far from a secret that this rain is more than shower,” he continued to speak, smiling down at her with a truly sincere grin Octavia thought him incapable of holding. “A song that brings misery of the heavens to wash away the imperfections of the land. A gentle rain with calming thunder.” He was speaking answers to questions she never asked. Answers, not questions, and far from riddles. Was Octavia’s mind not being lulled by the rain’s soft touch, she might have pinched herself to awaken from the dream.

“Like a spring shower in a summer’s heat,” Fiddle’s voice came, sounding like she was ready to drift off to sleep. Octavia turned to see the mare almost ready to do just that. She was lying on her back, alabaster hat sitting on her undercarriage, hoof resting atop of it. She had her head on the ground, lone blue mane sprayed out about her, floating lightly in the few puddles the storm had brought.

Octavia stared at her doppelganger, almost wishing to join her on the ground. She looked ready to fall asleep. It took her that long to notice the other pony already slumped against the yellow farm mare. Ditzy Doo, specifically, curled up against the more muscled pony peacefully. There were yellow strands of her mane sticking to her coat, splitting at ends and ruining the usual golden mane she had. But, Octavia could see with eyes wet with rain that she was having peaceful dreams. By the small giggles she made, funny ones too.

“Hey, looks like the rain can raise the dead.” Octavia knew Vinyl’s voice even through a small storm of rain and thunder. What she didn’t know was what her friend was talking about. A change of vision later, and she saw her neon maned friend looking at the only stallion present the garden, passed since before the rain began to fall.

Except, he was beginning to rise. Drifter, as it was, murmuring slowly as the rain continued to lightly pelt him, like tiny flicks of a pegasus’s feathers. It was rousing, that much was clear, but the near content tone to his groans told that it was doing so in a way he agreed with. Octavia lightly related it akin to being awoken by a sonnet’s opening.

It took little time before he began to rise to his haunches, hooves lightly splashing at the water collected on the ground. His one wing shook lightly, either out of a desire to stretch or the collective need to feel the rain; it was impossible to tell which. His eyes blinked lazily, again, uncertain if they were fighting off the remains of sleep or the water that trickled down his muzzle. It was when Octavia looked into his eyes that she saw the change, the same kind of change she saw had taken over near all of them.

Drifter was relaxed, calm, appearing more at peace now than when he had preceding the meeting. There was no dilation in his eyes, no wide gaze to show his unease. If anything, he appeared as he did while on stage, strumming his guitar with only the care for music on his mind. The subtle smile he wore only cemented the idea.

Octavia turned her gaze back to Link, back to the foreign creature that had created such an ethereal downpour. Thunder rolled above them again, like a mother ruffling a foal’s pillow as they prepared for sleep. She found him gazing back at her, smiling with his coatless face, inviting her without words.

Octavia looked at her bow in hand, appearing just as well and able to play in the rain as it was without. She felt her wings wrap around the cello leaning against her frame, almost savoring the feel of it leaning against her, damp with magic and rain. This was a feeling she had had before, nothing so new or foreign that it surprised her. Now her amazement came only from the method that it was achieved.

But she wanted to play now, to draw her bow across the strings and let the droplets of water dance across her cello. She wanted to hear how her music would perform in this rain, to try for the first time to play outside of a studio or her home, to play where she had not before. She wanted to see how the others would listen, either in captivation like an audience in a concert hall, or asleep across the wet grass like listening to a lullaby.

More than anything, Octavia wanted to see what her magic would do.

She smiled in turn to Link, his own growing until the whites of his teeth shown. He lightly held up his blue ocarina, unblemished by the rainfall. Octavia mimicked the action with her bow, lightly placing it across the strings of her cello. It bounced lightly, the rain running across the strings jumping away at the action, speckling across the dark painted wood.

Link raised his ocarina to his lips, lightly waving as he had before, making a metronome of his actions as he prepared to play. Octavia shut her eyes, preparing herself in a way Link did, in a way she always did. There were much alike, of that she was sure of. Now she wanted to see how alike their magic was, magic in music.

Without waiting another moment, she began to play.

BEGIN

She played a few soft notes, letting them ring through the rain. Similar to the start of many songs, it was slow, tempered with spaces that hung as well as the strings themselves. Each note made the rain dance, the small water droplets clinging to the wires flick off simultaneously. But each strum her bow made, quick as they were, echoed through the storm.

In a beat that matched Link’s song from before, she played notes that hung for chords, then two others that came in quick succession. A pattern that was easy to discern, unimpressive if written on paper, but all together captivating when played amongst the healing shower.

Octavia heard something else begin to play with her, a ringing through the rain. Her cello’s pace had not changed, and the sound was far different than any winded instrument, but it was there nonetheless. It was a ringing sound, like the ring of bells lightly being tapped upon their stand, or taunt piece of metal being flicked. It took that long for Octavia to realize it was the rain.

The rain played along with her, dancing alongside her. Droplets of rain were landing on objects Octavia couldn’t see, not with her eyes closed, adding to the song she so softly played. She was still the base, the carrier of the sound, but the rain added more than merely peaceful thoughts. Then, with a rumble of thunder from above, Link began to play.

It was the same song he had played before, the same three notes, short then long. They were the same notes, played in the same order, and carried upon the same volume as well. But now, he was not alone. He didn’t play notes that carried themselves, notes that held every part of the song. He played notes that were carried by strings, dancing through rain.

Octavia could feel the same feelings flow over her as he continued to play, the same peace in the rain. She continued to feel at ease whilst being doused with a natural force that usually signed danger. It was that ease that allowed her to continue to play, to pluck the same strings that let the rain dance, to direct the rain that beat upon objects unseen.

And as their collective songs played, changing ever so slightly in volume and pitch, Octavia began to see with her eyes closed, once again.

She saw a boy standing amongst a forest of trees, dwarfing him with their size. She saw him playing with a friend his size. Then she saw him double in size, staring at the same friend in the same forest of giants. The later of the two were unchanged. But they were still smiling, the boy now a man and his still youthful friend.

But she could tell, by the sights and sounds alone, this was not his home, it was no longer his home. He was a stranger visiting a friend, an outsider in a land not his own. But he was happy, being happy, acting happy, for a friend who still cared for him. With nearly a start, she realized what it meant.

He had forgiven the past.

Then she saw the boy again, playing with a child of straw and shadows. They played on instruments much their own, the boy on an ocarina and the straw child on a flute. They played a song that was both familiar and alien. But then the boy grew again, much taller than before. The boy changed from green to white, from a child to a warrior, from unblemished to warrior painted, but the straw child remain unchanged. Still the child looked up at the warrior, holding the same flute he had played before. And the warrior smiled down at him.

But she could tell, by the feeling and memories, that this was not a land where he was remembered. He had helped a hundred people, with a dozen different faces. He was remembered by names not his own, faces not his, and everything belonging to someone else. His courage forgotten, his sacrifices unspoken, but he was happy, happy for those that he had helped.

He forgave the past.

Then Octavia saw herself. She saw a small earth pony, coat gray and mane black, listening to her father play a cello three sizes her own size. She listened to the bow being pulled across the strings, swaying her head to and fro, matching the rhythm of the beat. She watched herself from years past enjoy a song she knew by heart. Then she was older, taller, wiser, playing the same cello her father had. Now he watched her, unchanged and no different, but smiling as she played the cello as he had before.

But there were no friends to join around her, no one but family and tradition to be thankful for her progress. Auditions attended by her parents, polite applause given by colleagues. No friends to take the day to cheer for her, not even acquaintances to give her advice through the nightly hours of practice.

She forgave the past.

Octavia felt it. She felt the memory of her past life and she felt the memories of Link’s own. She felt what once was and watched it wash away to reveal what then became. Letting go of the past to allow the future to shine, cleaning the slate to let a new story stat. Turning what was a dream of the past to a goal of the future. Now she understood.

Link played the Song of Storms upon Octavia’s Sonnet of Healing.

With a light blow of his ocarina, Link let the song conclude.

[END

The storm above them roared in applause, thunder cracking the sky as it shook the clouds above. Octavia took it as a standing ovation, unfurling her wings and letting the rain continue to dampen her feathers and coat. It was a heavenly feeling, of that she couldn’tt deny.

She took in a deep breath, tasting the rain as she savored its scent. It smelled alluring, like a freshly bloomed flower among a field, eager to be sought out. Were her eyes not already closed, she would have let them flutter shut. For now, all she did was sigh contently. For the first time in what honestly felt like ages, she felt nothing but relief.

There was no bearing stress of her sudden ascension, no unspoken need for her to learn the craft of her new heritage, not even the music she played. There was only her joy, the rain, and the sense of peace that came when both were united. Octavia savored it, and the thunder above roared in agreement.

She slowly opened her eyes, expecting to see her magic at work. She was not disappointed, though she was curious.

There were no notes in the air, nor chords of water dancing. There was no sudden vibrancy to the garden, no light in the dark cloud covered sky. Nothing sparkled, nothing shined, nothing appeared much different than anything else, until Octavia looked down. She gazed not at the grass, at the puddles, or even at the mud that formed as the two combined.

She gazed at the mess of gray pooling at her hooves.

It was only the rain’s sense of peace that kept smile present, her mind at ease. Gray water was about her, appearing no different than if dye had been spilt about her. It didn’t cling to her like clay, nor did it stick to her like mud. It was water, a liquid, just colored differently, more alien than she was used to. But again, the rain kept any thoughts or ill feelings away.

Or more likely, it washed them away. Octavia felt only humor as she washed in the thought. At her hooves were her worries and fears, cleansed from her like dirt in a wash, free from her returning to the earth. The thought made her coat feel lighter, her wings thinner, and her heart lighter, light enough to take flight, to fly through the rain and thunder. She settled for merely spreading them wide, letting another low rumble of thunder shake them as it did the ground beneath her.

She looked up again, seeing Link across from her. He pointed his face to the sky, enjoying the rain in a way that appeared only slightly different from before. Colors pooled about him too, but not the green that Octavia half suspected would be. It was a mixture of colors, in truth. Green as his clothes, gold as his hair, tan as his skin, and blue as his eyes, and likely, his heart. Octavia could only see it with the clarity of the rain.

The storm had brought tears to his eyes. And those tears too washed the pain of the past away.

“And so the rain of tears will wash away the regret of the past.” Octavia heard Tatl say, or quote, more likely. She was far more subdued, likely under the same influence of the rain as the rest of them. “No different than Flat and Sharp.” She didn’t know those names, but Octavia honestly cared little. She instead watched as the fairy floated about her, as caress of the rain as every other pony, hero, or draconequus present.

She just made out the softness of splashing, through the downpour and thunder. It took only a small refocus on Link to see him walking towards her, easily balanced on his two hind legs. An easy smile sat on his lips, looking down at her as she smiled back up at him. He stopped when he was only a few hoof lengths away from her.

He knelt, and in doing so, matched the gray alicorn’s height. Normally, Octavia would have felt perturbed in some way, having a stranger so easily approach her and so readily enter her space. But be it the rain or her trust for the creature with which she shared many similarities, she felt only peace. She looked into his blue eyes and he looked back into her own lavender orbs. Slowly, he lifted a rain drenched hand, pointing a single dull digit into the air. Octavia looked at it, watching as it slowly extended towards her, stopping when its tip was aimed at her.

You, is what the action meant. Octavia knew it was only conjecture, but she was confident in its meaning. The same appendage changed shape, the digit curling into Link’s palm as his angled digit pointed towards himself. And me, is what that meant. Again, simple for her to understand. Then he made a final action, twisting the same digit in the air. It stopped when it was parallel to the damp ground, water dripping off if it like a railing. Of the small digits, only two were extended outwards, as parallel to one another as his arm was with the ground. Though it wasn’t simple, Octavia understood the symbol.

“The same,” she finished, her smile never faltering. “You and I are the same,” Octavia spoke through the rain, finding herself enjoying the admittance aloud, to a creature she knew so little of, and yet shared so much with.

Link smiled back at her, childish enough for his eyes to shut at the action, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. Octavia felt herself doing the same, though careful not to let her head fall, as it would only invite her long damp mane to fall across her vision, a problem during any kind of storm. She noticed Link actually perform the action, pushing blonde locks out of his gaze. She wanted to giggle at the irony.

Instead, however, she decided to take another action. She knew it was bold, an action she would normally see Vinyl doing as a casual greeting, or perhaps that of long time friends seeing each other again. It was not an action she was keen to do often. And yet… without the weight of her duties upon her lifted, or more appropriately drowned, in the rain, she felt it appropriate. The action showed trust, faith, thanks, and even praise. She felt, or she knew, that Link deserved as much.

Reaching forward with her forehooves, Octavia pulled the kneeling Link into a tight hug.

The storm continued to pour around them, choosing not to silence itself as Octavia performed the rare action. It still drenched the pair, turnings one’s coat a mess of sticky hairs and the other for his clothes to stick to his skin. The soft breeze lightly chilled and the thunder above did not silence. Octavia remembered mocking many a romance scene that had couples dancing in the rain, even more that portrayed it as a wonderful event.

But now she saw the truth of it. It was not that the storm did not matter, not that it was simply too small compared to their great feelings. Rather, it was just the opposite. The force of the storm made the embrace of others more desirable, and all the better. The warmth brighter, the peace greater, and even the already-lessened ambitions forgotten. Truly, a hug in the storm was a grand thing.

And as Link wrapped his own long forelegs around Octavia, she knew she had made the right decision. She knew he would enjoy this embrace as she did. She knew that he made contact as little as she normally did. But, above all else, she knew how much he needed this… as she did all the same.

She had seen his memories, and he had seen hers. They had each exchanged facets of their past, moments that mirrored one another, times that seemed to be the cornerstone of who they were. Her father and her cello, his friend and his ocarina. Their friends. Their family. Their history. It was a brief exchange, but it was one they good not ignore. It was only the sense of peace that allowed Octavia to admit that.

“Thank you,” she spoke to him softly, rubbing the ends of her hooves up and down his back. “Thank you for helping in this way. I am glad to have met you.” She felt his hold tighten on her, for a moment alone, but long enough for her to notice. He leaned off of her, any tears he had hidden by the rain above, but his smile just as present as before. He raised his hand, again, his left arm beginning to make motions once more. Octavia translated every motion he made.

Link pounded his balled claw against his chest, lightly bounding like the thunder above. Be strong.

Link unclenched his hand, tapping one of his dull digits to the side of his head, where the end of his hat met the gold of his locks. Be wise.

Finally, Link unfolded his dull claw once more, reaching towards Octavia. She did not jerk nor move away as it lightly touched her snout, stopping only when a pair of his dull digits pointed towards her eyes, one for each. He lightly rapped on her muzzle. Keep your eyes open.

Then he swept his foreleg up, letting it motion across the dark clouded sky, to the rain pouring ceiling, to the booming thunder, and finally down the water-logged garden. He had a bright smile as he made the action. Octavia understood the meaning well. Enjoy all the world has.

“So that I may have joy even in times of sorrow.” Octavia wasn’t sure if he was going to make a motion for that. She would have, so it was likely he would as well. She also couldn’t say how she knew where his train of thought was going, but again, it felt like words she would say, and not just because she was the one to make them. The bright smile that Link gave her, complete with a nod of his head, told her she was right.

“I will,” Octavia promised, never one to go against her word. Link let out another soft laugh, either pleased or satisfied by Octavia’s response. She knew that she would have been, were their situations reversed.

She looked down again, at the puddle of gray and spots of black. It still should have disturbed her, how her emotions were literally pooling at her hooves, shed from her body like the dirt from a tumble was lost in the shower. Cleaned is what the literary minded would call the sensation, freed from what was holding her down. Forgiven is what the more holy of ponies might say, her mistakes and fears being laid to rest. But Octavia saw it as something else, attributing it to what she felt and more than what she saw.

She was relieved.

Nearly everything that had been weighing down on her, rules of the past and events of the present, were truly nothing more than drops of mud. There were no eyes following her, watching her movements to keep her poise. No judgment being reserved for her, should she slip and make a mistake in her decorum. There were no consequences to her sudden ascension, no need to spend more than a noticed moment to her wings or horn. They were there, and hers to do with as she saw fit. Nothing more.

She knew this was what she felt, and how to describe it, because it was what she felt when she saw Link’s own thoughts, his memories. Relief that a friend of old was still a friend of new, time changing little; relief that an unfortunate mistake cost little more than time’s delay for another; relief that despite all that he had endured, he was still alive; relief that in spite of losing so much, he was still willing to take so little.

Octavia watched Link, a short time stranger garbed in green, stand to his tallest. He had ocarina in hoof, his smile just as present as before. She knew what he was going to do, knew it as she knew he was supposed to. Where she still looking for her own friend, she would do the same.

“Go,” she spoke softly in the rain, likely heard only by his pointed ears. “Find your friend, and thank them for me.” She let out a small chuckle at the words.

“We’ll do that,” Tatl finally spoke up, Octavia almost forgetting about her for a moment. “And take care of yourself. Can’t always expect someone else to help you. Some time soon, you’re going to have to take care of yourself.”

Were there not a storm keeping such words away, Octavia might of felt her heart drop at the statement. Instead, she only found herself nodding, thankful for their wisdom.

“I will,” she returned. “Thank you again.” Link nodded once to her, smiling as he had done so far. He raised the blue ocarina to his lips, lightly wrapping the tip in his mouth, shutting his eyes and letting his body sway at the metronome he used it to be.

He played six notes again, but six notes of greater measure than before. Six notes that ran both independently and congregationally through the rain. He played them only once, never opening his eyes as he did so. The didn’t bring another storm, part the sky for any sun, or bring to life any part of the garden.

Instead, they swept up Link in another dazzle of green light, taking him away and far into the sky. In but a brief moment, Link was gone.

Octavia watched the light fade, knowing that he was safe, thankful for his coming, and thinking now only of the words that they had exchanged, both by mouth and hoof. She sighed, the thunder above rumbling as she did so.

She continued to stand in the rain, letting it ruin her coat and mane as it lifted from her the worries of the past. She breathed in deep the musk of the water, letting the thunder above continue to tremor her wings, like the skies attempt to lull her to sleep. It was doing a phenomenal job.

The gray alicorn turned to the other mares about her, watching as they enjoyed the rain in ways near similar to her own. She watched her doppelganger and neon-maned friend lay down in it, very literally sleeping under the rain. She saw Ditzy Doo and Princess Twilight extended their wings and flap them lightly, every so often, to let the water gently beat against them. She saw Drifter, still awake following the song, silent and calm within the storm. Even Celestia, heavenly regent of Canterlot, shut her eyes upon the storm, letting it bathe her in a way Octavia suspected she yearned for. Then she saw Luna.

The dark alicorn was little different in appearance then how Octavia had come to know her. She had the same dark coat, the same sparkling mane, and the same imposing figure with her wings extended outwards. But she was far different than the rest of the ponies present. She did not have a look of relief upon her features, nor the calming grace of one preparing for a night’s slumber.

As Octavia stared at the princess, she saw tears falling from the diarch’s eyes.

Tears in the rain, little different than Link’s, floating across her muzzle and disappearing into the dark pool at her hooves, made up of washed away regret and worry. Octavia spared no thoughts as she trotted over to the elder mare, her heart calm and form full of grace. Her hooves splashed in the puddles beneath them, long mane dripping with water as her tail dragged across the ground. She cared little for either.

“Luna?” She spoke the princess’s name when she was close enough. The dark alicorn turned gaze to her when she did. Her expression hardly changed. Octavia’s, however, adopted a more empathetic appearance, lips turned down and eyes slightly widened. “Is everything alright? Did the storm… perhaps… harm you in some way?”

Octavia expected words from her mentor, as she was often so keen to share. Words that usually portrayed a wise message she very rarely missed, wrapped in instructions for what to do. If not words then perhaps the motion to indicate an item or activity of interest. She had done so before, for the dark cello Octavia now possessed or a musical piece she believed the younger alicorn may appreciate. Those were common between the two, show and tell.

What she did not expect was the younger diarch suddenly enveloping her in a tight hug.

Octavia would not say Luna made the motion hastily, quite the contrary. The princess of dreams was very deliberate about the embracing, turning and wrapping her forehooves about Octavia long neck with patience… or perhaps hesitance. Octavia couldn’t tell, too focused on the firmness of the embrace she was now wrapped in. It was only a moment longer before wings joined the hooves.

The young cellist found herself only momentarily surprised, but quickly returning the sign of affection, wrapping her own hooves about the Luna’s damp coat. Like old friends comforting one another, Octavia and Luna embraced each other, the former unaware of the reason.

The hug was released faster than Octavia thought it would, but again, was not done so out of haste or embarrassment. Rather, Luna slid from the embrace, her wings almost regretful of leaving Octavia’s side.

“Thank you, Octavia,” she finally heard the princess speak, not a whisper but not her normal speech. “I… apologize for my display. I only felt the need to be reminded physically of what I have gained.” The implication of the words was painfully obvious, painful if the storm above was not wiping such things away.

“Please don’t think much of it,” Octavia returned easily, in a tone she knew she had yet to use with the princess. Far from condescending, but far more comforting than she was used to using. “We are friends, and just as you’ve helped me, I feel nothing but joy for being able to do the same.”

Octavia did not miss the princess’s reddening muzzle. It was hard to miss in the cool rain, steam nearly forming around her due to the heat.

“You are… very relaxed,” Luna spoke almost dumbly, searching for the right word and choosing an acceptable replacement. A small smile pulled at her lips. “I am grateful we have finally reached such ground. Truly, I am.”

“As am I,” Octavia sincerely replied, believing they had reached it before, but now appreciating the equality they found with one another. It felt as if she were talking to Vinyl, though with fewer headaches and half-spoken teases. “So I must also thank you, Luna, while this rain continues to work its magic over me.” She did not stop to allow Luna to inquire upon her meaning.

“While I will not pretend even now to know the formalities of royalty, even with myself being raised as a mare of high class, I know that it was no usual decision to take such care of me. You personally set aside much of your time to see to my progress, volunteered your own comfort to answer my questions while easing my fears.”

Now Octavia took rest, smiling in the rain as Luna gazed back at her. Neither thought much of the dampness of their coats, their slick manes, or the thunderous applause from above. If anything, they only encouraged the young gray alicorn to speak on.

“You have offered me more than I never thought you would, as I came to you seeking only your aide. You have given me more than that, so much more. You have given me colleagues to speak to, a mentor I can listen to, dreams I adore to explore in …” she took in a deep breath before she spoke on. “And a friend that I can trust my every word to.”

They let the rain speak for a time. Luna stood silent in that time. She only watched Octavia, showing nothing but empathy and patience in her gaze. It was a look Octavia had come to recognize and appreciate.

“Octavia,” Luna finally began. “I am… most pleased to hear that my actions have been to your benefit, as your fruition is what I hope to see. You are still a young mare, no older that Twilight Sparkle, but gifted in much the same way.” She turned her gaze away from Octavia, to the younger mare following her.

They looked to the lavender alicorn, her wings still fully extended and lightly shaking with each wave of thunder that passed above them. It was almost odd to Octavia, to see the princess so still. In nearly any other circumstance, she would be looking into, researching, or at least asking questions about the clear magic that rained down upon them. Instead, she stood still and savored it, letting peace rule her for a time.

“I had believed for a time that no other mare of this age would compare to her; a student of the utmost practice, dedicated to her studies as well as their application. She earned favor with my sister quickly, and for reasons I quickly understood upon my own return. I truly had thought that no other mare… would compare.” Octavia found it hard to disagree with the lunar princess. It was hard for any pony to be on par, let alone a peer, to the Princess of Friendship.

“But then I met you.”

Octavia turned back to the princess, her parted lips the only sign of her surprise.

“You, who walked into my court wearing a coat twice your size; hiding your appearance for a faux sense of shame. A humble mare that needed her friend’s helping hoof to seek my aide before.” Luna softly chuckled, the rain shaking free of her mane at the gesture. “You showed much through your actions alone the dedication you hold to your craft, the empathy you have for others, and the commitment to move forward in places where many others would wish for a return to their normalcy. But more than any of that, you gave me something that I have not yet had in this time.” Her gentle smile, upon her dark lips, showed nothing but honesty as they curled, lightly, upwards.

“You have given me a friend to whom I would entrust the secret of my dreams.”

Octavia felt her chest warm at the words. She felt her wings, twitching before, lightly spread apart. But more apparent than any of that, her lips curled into a smile, eyes half-lidded with equal amounts of glee.

This time, the youngest of the alicorns initiated the embrace. The elder alicorn was swift to return it.

“So now, Octavia Melody, what now do you plan to do?”

The Rise

Octavia knew what she was going to do.

She knew what she was going to do when Luna asked her the question in the garden, amidst the healing rain. She knew when night began to call and the sisters had to leave. She knew when she and Vinyl departed the castle and left for their home. And, she definitely knew now; lying in her bed and staring at the ceiling above.

The answer came easy to her, now that the stresses and fears that were weighing her down were gone, lost to the rain her music had brought. When all of that was gone, the fear of everything that could go wrong and the stress of everything pushing down on her, the answer was as clear as the moon amongst the stars. It needed only a glance to see it.

The answer made her smile, making her wings flutter ever so lightly the longer it sat in her mind. I was growing ever larger, the more she thought of it. The idea wasn’t something grand or surprising, certainly nothing that no pony could see coming. Rather, it was just the opposite.

It was the inevitable, what was bound to happen eventually. It was what she and her close friends had put off for so long, waiting until she was ready. And now, she was. Octavia knew she was ready to speak of what she was.

Octavia was ready to announce that she was an alicorn. Her idea, the one she now loved so much, was how to do it.

Her friends had taught her more than she had expected, likely more than they were aware. Perhaps they were aware now though, with rain from before making the world around them clearer. Octavia knew well that her thoughts now were because of the rain’s gentle fall. It made her lessons easy to name.

Octavia knew much more was gained from the observation of the few than the audience of the many. The eyes of nameless ponies often meaning much less than the concerned gaze of ponies she could name. She cared much more for her friends, her family, than she did an audience she could name. Fiddle taught her that.

Octavia knew that the best criticism came from the best of friends. She could no more trust the baseless opinions of some random mare off the street than she could her fortune from some tabloid. A friend, however, based their decisions of a friend off of the history they shared. They did not decide off of a single event, but off of the numerous once of the past. Vinyl had taught her that.

Octavia knew that the greatest effects came from actions outside of boundaries. She knew that she couldn’t hope to have the best result come from what was most expected. Ponies thought in a certain way when they were forced into a collective. Collectives took actions outside of their thought process as wrong. The best way to avoid that thinking was to avoid the thoughts of the many. Discord had taught her that.

Octavia knew that her strength was not one to make a show of. Strengths came in many forms, in different sizes and shapes. While hers was doubtlessly one that was grand in magnitude and scope, other had fortes in areas that would never be spoken of more than an off hoof comment. But those were the ones that ponies depended on the most. And, to be depended upon without the eyes of thousands, was something that Octavia knew she preferred. It took both Princess Twilight Sparkle and Ditzy Do to teach her that.

But more than anything else, Octavia learned the importance of perception. It was easy for a pony to perceive what others saw, especially when there was only one perception to be had. It was easy to see a spirit as evil when ponies only spoke ill of it. On the other hoof, it was just was easy to see a princess as dark and cold when no pony spoke simply to her. Yet Octavia had seen the good in a spirit of chaos and the inviting smile of the princess of the night.

Together, they allowed Octavia to stand the presence of the former, but coming to love interactions with the latter. Every small gesture that would have been unheard of in her court was savored. Every word of advice that she had spoken was cherished. And all because she spoke to Octavia not as another mare in a crowd, but as a friend that was closer than any simple stranger could be.

Luna… she had taught her in so many ways the importance of friendship. Without her, Octavia was remiss to say she’d have any more than the single friend she already called a roommate.

All of these simple things, all of these choice lessons, they helped Octavia with her idea. Specifically, with a mind clear of regret and doubt, given fresh soil to be nurtured in, Octavia knew how she wanted to announce herself.

It would not be to a crowd of ponies, high up and separated from them. It would be in a small room, a ballroom at the largest. It would not be to a thousand faces she could never hope to place. It would be only a few dozen at most, ponies she knew well or close to it, whose names she could place to faces. It would not most certainly not be to a grand festival or cheer. It would be a quiet announcement, spoken with soft ceremony, perhaps at best with her showing what she was now capable of.

And the more she thought of it in the fertile soil, the more it continued to grow. Every action was clear, everything simple and true. But most importantly, she knew this was the best way to announce herself.

Octavia knew it was right because she felt it; felt it like she felt the perfect chord rumble through her cello.

But in all of her thoughts and machinations, there was still one question her idea did not answer, one possibility that had no wrong answer, but still needed a right one to be complete. Staring up at her ceiling, the night’s blanket lying atop of her, she whispered it aloud, hoping her clear mind would conjure a new one for her.

“Who will help me announce myself?”

Author's Note

“Wizard! What are you doing? You’re deciding this just like that? Where is my voice? Why didn’t I get to vote in this?”

Because you already did.

Seriously though, every question I’ve asked over the course of this story has been carefully constructed to not only compare ponies that are popular in the fandom, but also their standing. For example, Luna was chosen above and beyond more than any other pony, including Vinyl. However, I also put ponies next to each other for their meaning.

A good example would be Luna and Vinyl. One is a rather recluse mare that focuses on studies and helps her ponies through the slumber of the night. The other keeps herself in the public often as possible, day AND night. People chose Luna more. Hence, Octavia wishes for a small, yet meaningful, gesture. Where Vinyl chosen more often, Octavia would have opted for a large announcement, party-like almost.

And again with Drifter and Fiddle. Fiddle was a mare that obviously lived outside of the city, as well as Canterlot, as told by her wiki page alone! Drifter… I tried to make clear he was around the public and Vinyl told was big for concerts. That isn’t something you assume with Fiddle. But she was chosen more, and then there, Octavia appreciated the joy of those close to her more than strangers she had never met.

I went through all the choices and tallied them appropriately, and I have come to this decision. I apologize if you were hoping for me to ask you again, but the downfall of most stories is asking the audience and the main character making suddenly erratic motions because of it. Therefore, I’ve made an authorial move in this.

Also, I didn’t include this small chapter in the last one because I knew there would be some back lash for the brief appearance of Link. Didn’t want to everyone talking about two different things. Gotta plan these mass hate moments in order.

The last question still stands though. And it is EXACTLY what you think it is.

Who will Octavia ask to help her now?
A) Princess Luna
B) Vinyl Scratch
C) Discord
The three most voted ponies/spirits.

Please leave your opinion, both of them, in the comments!

The Harmony: Part 1

It wasn’t a hard decision for Octavia, not really. Not once she realized the obvious choice was the best choice. There was really only one mare she had trusted so much and so well throughout this little journey of hers. It only made sense she was there to help her at the end of it.

Princess Luna, the Regent of the Moon, and most importantly, one of her newest and greatest friends.

“-preferred to have the members of the Orchestra by the stage, or further from it? Closer to the right should work, though I believe your family should take precedence.” Said diarch spoke of the seating order once more, more to herself than Octavia. The gray alicorn answered her regardless.

“The Orchestra would actually prefer to be in the mid section, not too close to the stage,” she explained. “It keeps the proper balance of the instrument, without letting the louder instruments over power the others or become too quiet.” Luna turned to her, smiling with a nod.

“Yes, of course,” she answered earnestly. “How silly of me to forget the golden rule.” Without another word, the dark alicorn lit up her horn, a dark aura encompassing it. When it did, similar ethereal lights grew over a copious number of items lain over the tables.

There were three rows of them, stretching up and down the length of the dining hall, from the bannister to the higher floors all the way to the ceremonial stage, meant for grand speeches or performance. Dozens of dozens of seats were set beneath each table, all met with a proper set of plates and silverware. That aside, the tables were far from ordinary.

The glasses were all of a dark silvery color, looking to be made by artisans. The plate and silverware were much the same, jeweled with what Octavia was sure were imports from the Crystal Kingdom. She hoped so in the very least, otherwise they were of significant cost. All of these were set over a long tablecloth, one for each table.

It took the cellist no time to recognize the dark decorum that along the length of the center, flanked on both sides by trails of spotted gold. It was a table runner common among many gathering in the Canterlot Castle, or at least she’d been told. Nevertheless, she had seen it a few times, as well as the pattern itself.

It was commonly found in Luna’s quarters.

“-name plates are spread properly, with those already aware of your ascension placed closer to the entrance hall.” Luna noted again. Octavia listened to every word. “That finishes the table settings, the seat arrangement, the orchestra assembly, and the decorations as well.” There was a noticeable perk to her voice. “I believe we are finished.” That was a good reason to be happy.

“And all well before the party’s beginning.” Octavia added, her own cheer thick in her voice. She didn’t feel a need to hide it. “This all looks so wonderful, perfect even.” She wasn’t kind with that word, but Octavia was less able to lie.

“Nearly as it can.” Luna spoke, her words mimicking Octavia’s thoughts. “Now we only need to have the meals prepared to serve and we will have little else to worry about.” Her words came off as if she were counting down a list. She likely was, used to these sorts of events far more than Octavia was. Still, the cellist could only wonder how similar this was to any other gathering the lunar alicorn might have participated in.

She looked at Luna, the princess wearing nothing to signify her title. Only the wings on her back and horn on her head made her position clear, not to forget her mane that billowed ethereally. Even after their preparations of the dining hall, she didn’t appear to have a single sign of fatigue.

It was like that whenever she helped Octavia. Foregoing a moment of shock or disbelief, usually shared between them, Luna never looked as if she was out of her element. Like the conductor before a master Orchestra, or a herself holding the cello, Luna never appeared anything but confident.

That confidence only came back to aid the cellist in more ways that one, always leading her down a path that never seemed rushed or hurried. She had learned so much thanks to Luna, been shown new possibilities by her aid, and once more now, she was helping her to personally prepare for what would likely be the most important announcement of her life.

Princess was a title most were born into, but to Octavia, Luna deserved it with wings and horn aside.

“Luna,” Octavia spoke the princess name. The dark alicorn turned in wait for a response. “I wanted to thank you again, for helping me with… all of this.” She could almost predict what Luna was going to return with.

“Think nothing of it, Octavia.” She smiled with her words, a gentle smile Octavia had a hard time believing many ponies were able to see, not when they were being introduced or discussed in her royal court. “It is by no means an inconvenience to assist you with your announcement. Rather, it is what we have both worked to prepare for.” All true, but not what she was aiming for.

“And I do thank you for that as well, but that wasn’t what I was thanking you for.” Luna’s cheerful expression fell, shifting like disturbed water into a confused stare. Octavia lightly noted that she had set down the plates that were around them, focusing on her.

The only thing odd about that was how Octavia felt no worry nor fear at the direct attention.

“What I mean is… I want to thank you for… everything.” Her gray hoof swiped lightly in the air, motioning over the abstract thought of the past events of her life. “You’ve been nothing but… You’ve only helped me ever since this sudden… change happened to me. I honestly thought at first that I would have hide for the remainder of my life, doing my utmost to never leave home without a hat or jacket.”

Luna said nothing, not yet. Octavia could tell she was waiting for her to finish. That was good, because she needed to be as clear as possible.

“At first, when Vinyl helped bring me to you, I thought you were just doing your… royal duty, to your subjects. And I think… you might have, too.” That was a guess, an honest one on her part. But judging only by Luna’s continued silence, and slight bob to her head, there must have been a seed of fact in the conjecture. “And yet, what you have done has gone far beyond what any mare or stallion could consider a simple duty to your subjects.”

“It is because you are more than a subject, Octavia,” Luna spoke the words with heartfelt sincerity. Octavia knew because she felt them more than she heard them. She experienced much the same.

“Yes, we’re friends.” There was no question in her mind what they were. They had spoken of it before, many times before. But now, any shadow of doubt was gone forever. “A friend that I enjoy the company of, enjoy speaking to, and trust with situations in my life both critical and minor.”

“And in truth, I am more honored that you would ask of small questions in your life than larger ones.” Luna trotted closer to Octavia as she spoke.

She was taller than the gray alicorn, far taller than most ponies as well. It wasn’t an exaggeration of words to say that she towered over most. It only became all the more obvious when her wings were extended, unfurled to their greatest lengths. More than once Octavia remembered how small she felt next to the Lunar Princess.

But right now, standing side-by-side, Octavia felt only comfort by their closeness. It was like having a rock to lean on in the midst of a storm, or a seat behind her to help carry her cello’s chords. Assurance and comfort, aide without worry. Simply, a fascinating necessity that Octavia felt little else but joy for now.

She felt joy, thanks, and so much more; all so different from her worry and trepidation when this journey began. In some way, she was sure that was what Luna meant as well.

No need to act from duty or loyalty, no need to watch over her as a caretaker or guardian. Luna was choosing to help Octavia from nothing other than a sense of friendship. She did it for no other reason, and that was reason enough for Octavia to thank her.

“I have few friends, Octavia. Few aside from those who see me out of necessity.” Octavia was caught up in her melancholy, almost missing the taller alicorn’s words. “I am also glad to help those who need me, and I will hear out any pony who asks it of me. And yet, their requests only come when I am the last mare they can ask.”

Luna lowered her head for a moment, silence ruling over the dining hall in her stead. With the tip downwards, Octavia couldn’t help the metaphor that Luna was submitting to the silence. Thankfully, her next words rebelled against it.

“You are the first pony, Octavia Melody, who asks for my aid not as the last option, but a first choice.” If the smile across the dark mare’s lips was not enough, Octavia could very nearly feel the joy and gratification in Luna’s voice. It sounded no different than a cello’s solo amongst a symphony, a literal rumble among her heartstrings. “That is how I know I see you as a friend that I enjoy both the day and night with.”

“And I in return to you, Luna.” Octavia was sure she had the same tone of joy in her voice. She couldn’t imagine she’d speak with anything else while talking to Luna. “I have few friends that I can truly enjoy an evening with, many of them I have made only after this sudden change in my life. But you are a friend I wish to speak with from sunset to moon fall. I find no reason to ever tire of your company.”

Instead of words, Octavia felt Luna respond with a wing over her back.

It was sudden, surprising and quick enough to earn a small gasp of surprise from her. Her gray hooves tittered across the tiles, momentarily caught off balance by the sudden sweeping force. In all the ways she thought of Luna to respond, this was not one of them. And yet, at the same time, it was not one she found any qualms with.

“And you are a friend I can enjoy the arts of music and imagination with. Even with those, I cannot fathom a reason to ever wish for anything but your friendship.” Octavia was already leaning against Luna when she heard the words, and she heard them as she felt the elder alicorn’s warmth. It was a wonderfully complementary combination.

For a moment, she didn’t respond, instead leaning into the dark mare’s coat. She extended her own wing, carefully twisting it beneath the taller one wrapped around her, before extending it slightly up and over Luna’s back. Her feathers knit themselves into the stem of Luna’s wing, but the embrace felt comfortable enough to satisfy any level of grooming her feathers would later need. By the hum Luna gave in return, she knew the feeling was mutual.

“Perhaps when this night is done,” Octavia began. “And I have told all who do not already know about the new me, maybe we can spend the night playing a song.” It was a spontaneous idea, but if Vinyl was evidence of anything in her life, it was that the random acts sometimes led to the best results.

“I would enjoy that, immensely.” The words were spoken without pause, and came in return fast enough to mean little thought. Octavia may have asked the question from her heart, but Luan responded all the same. That was excellent. “Do you have one in mind?”

“No,” Octavia answered honestly. “But if my magic is meant for anything, it is to create new songs with every pull of my bow.”

“Then I would love to help you create a new song.” Octavia felt Luna pull her a little closer, their coat feathers knitting together a little harder. “I think the dreams of the land would benefit immensely from the music you can make.”

“You and I, Luna,” Octavia corrected. “Though I do enjoy a solo, I believe we can do so much more in a duet.” She giggled with her words. An expected action, perhaps, but it was one she felt like doing. Only more so when she felt Luna’s own carriage rumble with chuckles as well.

“Of course,” Luna returned with mirth. “Whatever one can make, two can make more. I believe the dreams we make from your songs will turn the dreamscape into a true Neverland.” Octavia couldn’t wait.

Slowly, the two separated, winds retracting back to their sides and folding away for another time. Octavia lightly waved her head, readjusting her long mane to a single side of her neck. She saw Luna do the same, though with far more grace and practice, hundreds of years in truth.

“But, now that the hall is prepared, we should prepare ourselves.” Luna spoke dutifully, already trotting towards the stairs to the higher floor. Octavia quickened her pace to keep up with the taller alicorn.

“Oh, yes, it would make sense to clean up after setting up.” Octavia nodded her head at the words. She was already going to be showing her friends and family the newer parts of herself. It made sense to do it with at least a well groomed mane, tail, and coat.

“Yes, though as royalty and the guest of honor, we will be the last to enter the hall.” Their hooves clopped lightly up the stairs as they reached, them Octavia looking up to Luna and Luna back down to her. Eye contact always hastened conversation, both knew this. “The ponies of the court will help seat the guests as they come, serving light entrees until all arrive. When they do, then we will enter upon our introductions.”

That was right. Octavia had seen such an entrance before, when Celestia was having have a celebration some near decade ago, before Luna had returned from the curse of Nightmare Moon. She entered last, but only when some pony announced her presence and title.

“Then I suppose Celestia and Twilight will be introduced as well?” Luna nodded to her question, even as her horn lit itself a dark aura, opening the pair of doors before them. Octavia offered them not a look as they walked through. Neither did she look around the ornate room they entered.

“That is correct,” Luna responded. “Traditionally, the youngest of royalty will enter first, trailed by their elders. You, however, as the guest of honor, will be entering last.” That made sense. But… it still was a little nerve racking. Still, she should think of it much different than being applauded by a crowd of ponies before a symphony’s beginning. Right now was more important.

Right now, with her close friend, with a mare she saw as one of her life’s greatest gifts, having finished preparing a ceremony for all those close to her, now leaving to ready herself for her entrance, Octavia knew she was as happy as she had been in all her life.

She was doing well. If not that, great.

Octavia was not okay. Far from great.

Physically, she was as near perfection as she believed she could ever reach.

Her mane was perfectly groomed, tail combed to the very tips, coat cleaned to the point that her gray fur near shined, and what was more, her feathers were preened to perfection, and her horn even shined to a finer point. Her signature lavender bowtie was secure about her neck and she even had small equally shaded, lavender, silk ribbons tied about her hooves. A dress aside, she was prepared to meet dignitaries of foreign nations.

Mentally, she was a train wreck.

Nothing had gone wrong, per say. There weren’t any surprising updates about the dining hall or any pony coming to it. No last minute emergencies on the part of either princess either. Really, if she were to look back at a detailed schedule, nothing had changed. That might have been the problem.

Nearly every part of her mind told her that something must have happened, some small bad event that would lead to an equally small change in the night. That was just how things worked. There was no such thing as a perfect plan, just like there was no such thing as a perfect performance.

Strings would play the wrong chords, brass would play a note too loud, drums would go off tempo, keys might miss an entire measure. If not one, then all. That was how everything had worked, even up to now.

Her musical session with Vinyl had been altered by the latter’s desire to “spice things up”. A weekend at Fiddlesticks had turned into a weekend of hard work, sweat, and maybe a few tears. Magic with Twilight came with a few broken pieces of pottery, flight with Ditzy was accompanied with a few falls and tumbles, even a peaceful trip home from Fillydelphia was met with Discord making a sudden entrance.

Yet right now, maybe only moments before she was meant to introduce herself all over again to her family and friends, nothing had gone wrong. That was worth worrying over.

“Are you alright, Octavia?” Said gray alicorn turned her attention to the speaker of the question, bearing in mind too swift a head motion might ruin her carefully groomed hair. Her eyes settled on Princess Twilight Sparkle, equally if not better prepared for the evening.

The lavender alicorn’s hair was curled at its ends, wearing a frilly dress Octavia was sure she adorned during her own ceremony, and wearing a few metal bands of regalia about her hooves. Her accessories were superior to Octavia’s own. It made sense, she was a princess. What did she ask again?

“I’m alright,” she falsely assured. “Just… a-a little nervous.” That was the truth. She resisted the urge to rub the back of her head with her hoof. She couldn’t mess with her carefully groomed hair.

“Well that is perfectly understandable,” Twilight spoke on, trotting the short distance over to her. “I can’t begin to tell you the number of times I’ve been caught up in nervousness myself. It can be a crippling feeling, usually caused by chemicals such as dopamine and serotonin, two neurotransmitters also released during levels of stress.” Octavia was sure she had learned a lot over the past few months, but she was equally sure she knew nothing about what the Princess of Friendship was saying.

“I apologize for Twili, sometimes she gets swept away in her details.” Octavia followed the voice to a pony she had must only a few hours earlier, but one who was no less important.

The Princess of the Crystal Empire, Princess Cadance Cadenza. Octavia was corrected to use only her first name swiftly.

Dressed in a very complimentary blue gown, she was very nearly glittering with the crystals that were on it. Her tri-colored mane waved down her neck, flowing as Octavia could only describe as colorful water. To a princess that ruled a kingdom of rocks, that was a rather ironic statement. She was just as humble as all the other members of Royalty Octavia had met. That only became clear when her first words were a request to call her by her first name. Her husband as well.

Her husband was Prince Shining Armor, the former Captain of Canterlot’s guard. Octavia didn’t need an introduction to know who he was. Namely because the fatigues he wore signified his former post, ornamented with symbols signifying his prior position. She wouldn’t say it aloud, but the blue and alabaster of his mane and coat was nearly blinding. That was likely the idea.

“It’s…” Octavia looked to Princess Twilight, who appeared sheepish at the elder princess’s words. “It’s nothing that needs forgiving. She did- you did help me to control my magic before.” The cellist made sure to focus her attention on Twilight before she spoke. It was rude to speak of some pony while they were still there. The lavender alicorn gave her a nod of thanks.

“I bet she did,” Shining Armor spoke up now, chest puffed out with bride. For his younger sister, it made perfect sense to Octavia. “My LSBFF is a natural teacher. Can’t tell you the number of times she tried to teach me about the books she was reading when she was still a foal.”

“Oh, I can second that!” Princess Cadance joined in as she raised a crystal-embroiled hoof, rather excitedly at that. Octavia spared a glance to Twilight, who seemed rather mortified by the words, face red enough to show through her lavender coat. “She loved to show every new spell she learned, trying them out whenever she could. I remember one time she was learning how to levitate multiple objects-”

“Cadence!” Octavia nearly jumped at the high whine Twilight gave out. It sounded like herself when Vinyl grated on her nerves. “You promised you wouldn’t talk about that.” The gray alicorn turned around just quick enough to see the Princess of the Crystal Empire give a sheepish look of apology.

“Oh, I’m sorry Twili, it slipped my mind,” she spoke only to follow up with giggles. Shining Armor wasn’t far behind, leaning into his spouse to stifle his laughter. Neither succeeded well, though Princess Twilight foalishly puffing her cheeks made it difficult. Octavia only managed to keep her own grin away with the worries that plagued her mind. Oh right, those.

“You do have a fun number of misadventures, Twilight,” Octavia turned body and head to look at the next speaker. Well, look up to was more accurate. Princess Celestia, white as flawless clouds and shining with golden regalia, was a mare that stood above near all other ponies. Right now, she was smiling down at Twilight. “I recall one time specific time where you worried about not being able to send me a friendship report…”

The eldest of alicorns let her words hang in the air. Octavia saw it like the slow draw of a cello’s string, just faint enough to let those near know the music was still in the air, but never so loud to continue the song. It appeared to do the trick with Twilight.

“I really want to forget about that…” The Princess of Friendship whined. It only made Octavia want to know more about it.

“That is one of your little misadventures I truly regret missing to see.”

Octavia’s body shivered. She knew that voice, and what’s more, she knew it didn’t belong to any of the princesses. She looked up, hearing the rustling of clothes from the royalty around her, telling her she was not alone in the action.

The first thing her eyes set on, lying in an upside down hammock, was the venerable God of Mischief and tormentor to social norms, Discord. She wanted to know less about him.

“Discord,” Octavia heard Shining Armor say his name, a hint of disdain in his tone. At least she was not alone. “Aren’t you supposed to be with the rest of the party outside?”

“Oh I was, all the way until we sat down and too few eyes were set on me.” Discord waved his forelimbs in the air, trailing a line about himself. Literal eyeballs started to float in the air, all-staring pointedly at him. Somehow, they were blinking as well. It was more disgusting than disorienting. “I could have waved them all away, but I am trying to be polite tonight.”

As if to show his abilities once more, a flash of white covered Discord, specifically about his forelimbs. When the brief light vanished, he was left with doubles of his limbs. Two lion paws and two dragon claws. It struck Octavia oddly how in place they looked on the already copiously compiled creature.

“So, I hear you're worried something hasn’t gone wrong?” Discord asked curiously, three of his now four limbs stroking his beard. It appeared to have grown longer for the effect. Octavia wondered if it was worth using a chord of a violin in her to command her magic to pull it. She resisted the urge. He was just talking, in his own obnoxious way.

“In short summary, yes,” Octavia spoke as patiently as she could. Too much exertion would ruin her appearance. “But I suppose you are here to correct that, aren’t you?” Her question was met only with laughter. She sighed at the sound.

“Now, now, Octavia,” Discord spoke his name while waving his hands. They dissolved at the effort, four snapping back into two. It was weird how used to the sight she was. “Why would I ever do as you expect? Wouldn’t that ruin the fun of a surprise?” The draconequus disappeared with the usual bang and flash of white, only to reappear just behind Octavia. “Besides, don’t you remember? The real fun comes from asking questions, not giving answers.”

“Discord,” Octavia heard Celestia speak, her tone full of the order she knew the alabaster alicorn embodied. “May I remind you that this is not a party to spoil. This is a very important day to Octavia and her friends, including you.” The cellist was immediately inclined to agree.

“Oh Celestia, you old worry wart, you,” Discord answered with a twist of his. A literal twist; rotating about his shoulders in a normally detrimental fashion. It put a stab of pain in Octavia’s own neck. “I shouldn’t have to tell you where the real fun in chaos lies.”

“You’d rather watch odd events play out.” Octavia had no surprise to hear Twilight answer Discord. Luna had said that she and her friends had rehabilitated the draconequus. “I understand that Discord, believe me I do. Fluttershy made sure we all did after the Tirek incident.”

Octavia was moderately surprised to see Discord shiver at the name. She was less surprised or impressed to see him turn into a solid block of ice, fall to the ground, and shatter in pieces. It was even less amusing to see all the shards disappear in the usual glamor of light, reappearing as a reconstituted Discord above the alicorns.

“Now, why would you mention that creature’s name?” Discord seemed insulted as he asked his question. Octavia was too interested to do anything else but watch. “It would have been better to not hear it for another thousand years or so, give or take a century. Or maybe…” Discord leaned in towards the alabaster princess, his frown slowly flipping, literally, into a smirk. “You just did the opposite of what I expected.”

“Tit-for-tat, as you would say.” Octavia’s already immense respect for Celestia blossomed as the Solar Princess smiled into Discord’s mischievous mask.

“Doing as I would do, and in turn, the opposite of what I’d expect.” Discord chuckled at his words, a chuckle that quickly grew into a bellowing laugh. “Oh ha ha ha ha! Oh my dear princess, how could I ever go the centuries without playing words with you?”

“I wouldn’t care to know myself,” Celestia returned, flipping her ethereal mane over her neck. Octavia was sure she felt a shift in the air at the motion. Maybe that was just in her head. She was nervous enough. “But perhaps its best you join the rest of the party and wait for us. Wouldn’t want to ruin an already rare moment, would you?”

Octavia knew full well what that rare moment was. It was as mysterious as the color of her hair. But the words, were they true or not, were spoken just well enough to have Discord bend backwards in the air, slithering through it like the snake he partially was.

“Oh my dear princess,” he began. “You know me so well. I suppose it would be time to rejoin the festivities. It is its own form of chaos to show a God of Mischief to a family with foals. I believe Applejack described it ‘throwing a garden snake into a barrel with fruit-bats’.”

“That does sound like her,” Octavia heard Twilight mumble from behind her. She had to gently remind herself that Applejack was one of Twilight’s dear friends, as well as the cousin of Fiddlesticks. She was here twice over with invitations.

“But to you, Ms. Octavia Melody.” Octavia’s attention whirled back to Discord, her hoof lightly catching her long mane before it undid itself. “I certainly don’t want to ruin your special day, not when I haven’t seen an announcement like this in quite some time. I can’t ruin it and call it random when this event is already a treasure of its own.”

With his lion paw over his slytherin body, dragon’s claw in the air, Octavia could almost imagine him swearing an oath to her. In a way, that may have been exactly what he was doing.

“I wish you luck Octavia. I hope you don’t disappoint.” Then, in a flash she was used to seeing from the mad draconequus, Discord was gone.

He took any tension in the room with his departure, allowing Octavia a moment to breath. She savored it like the finest of wines. Perhaps she could have a glass of it when she was finished. A part of her told her she would need it.

“Well, I suppose it nearly time to start introducing ourselves.” And with Celestia’s words, all the tension returned. Namely, because she was aware there was a very important member of the royalty missing.

“W-Wait,” her voice came out in a trip, something she instantly regretted. But, she mentally fought past it. “Where is Luna? Isn’t improper to begin entry without her?” Honestly, Octavia was surprised Luna was not already here.

They had left the dining hall together to prepare, going separate ways only when Luna was required to fulfill a few of her nightly duties. They had their hair combed together, coats cleaned, wings preened, and horns shined all side-by-side. Were they not inside the Canterlot Castle, Octavia would have seen it like visiting the spa with her friend.

“She will be here momentarily,” Celestia assured Octavia, smiling genuinely with a tone that had nothing but sincerity. It was hard not to think the best of the tall alicorn when she gave off such an aura of peace. “My sister is dutiful to the core, and that sometimes means arriving only moments before necess-”

A sudden pop in the air muted anything else Celesta had to say.

Octavia let out a small eep of surprise, backpedaling away from the sound that had momentarily rendered her deaf. It sounded like a balloon being popped right behind her. Her shock dissolved into relief, a hoof laying over her chest, as she saw exactly what had caused the noise.

“My apologies for my tardiness,” Luna spoke from her sudden entrance. “I was merely preparing some last minute arrangements.” The dark alicorn spoke the words to her elder sister, but quickly turned head and smile towards Octavia. She smiled in turn.

Luna was dressed just as she was when they had parted ways, wearing the dark regalia that sparkled like her night, a darkness that was obscured by nothing yet never cried for attention. It reminded Octavia of the double bass in the strings; an always present sound, yet never clamoring for attention.

The Lunar Princess’ coat was just as lovely, vacant as a cloudless night. Her ethereal mane still portrayed the stars of her sky, each one twinkling with the luminosity of a comet. From her regalia to her horn, Luna perfectly portrayed what it meant to be as beautiful as the night.

And yet, all Octavia cared for was the smile the princess was offering her. She only hoped she gave one just as heartfelt in return. There was no reason she would not.

“Tardiness is unbecoming of you Luna,” Celestia lightly cajoled her sister, earning an instant huff from Luna. Octavia did her utmost to not laugh at the sudden change in expression. Her perked ears could tell Princess Cadance and Twilight had not fared as well. “It is nearly time for us to make our entrance.”

“Oh, indeed,” Luna returned. “There was a cacophony of noise from behind the curtain, so I am certain near all of the guests of have arrived.” Wait… curtains?

“Um, Luna,” Octavia began, earning the taller alicorn’s attention. “What were you doing behind the curtains? We both made sure already that all the instruments are properly placed…” Her voice trailed off when Luna lightly shook her head. She didn’t need to worry of tangling a mane made of magic.

“Have no fear, Octavia,” she spoke again. “I was merely preparing a small effort on my part, one I wish to surprise you with.” The cellist’s head slowly shook, very slowly.

Perhaps it was Discord’s recent entry and exit that her the word surprise placed in a negative connotation of her mind. No, that was definitely it. There was no way in all of realities that Luna would ever do something to embarrass Octavia. It was a simple impossibility.

“It is getting rather loud, actually.” Twilight’s words drew Octavia from her small reverie, as well as the attention of Luna, who looked beyond her to the lavender alicorn. “I’m sure the rest of the girl’s are starting to wonder where I am. Rainbow especially.” She lightly laughed at her words. Octavia could not see a joke anywhere in them.

“Then perhaps the proceedings should begin.” Celestia turned as she spoke, trotting towards the door to the dining hall. She never lacked in grace or poise, that much was obvious to Octavia. Then again, even as a mare now considered of the same type of mare as Celestia, an alicorn, she hadn’t spent hardly more than a few minutes alone with the eldest of the diarchs.

Octavia’s musings were finished as the princess lightly knocked on the door, tapping it with her golden hoof. Almost instantly it opened, flooding the small foyer they stood in with noise. She could hear a dozen of dozens voices outside, everyone of them a pony that had had an impact in her life, small or large. Her anxiety returned with the increase in sound.

“Prepare for our entrances,” Celestia’s voice spoke through the crack in the door, doubtlessly to a pony Octavia couldn’t see. “Youngest to eldest, our Guest of Honor last.” She turned back towards Octavia, looking towards her… and the many other princesses that were in the foyer, Shining Armor included.

Octavia swallowed on nothing. This was it. She was literally moments away from revealing everything she had hidden for the past few months. She was… oh this was worse than any performance she had ever done. At least the audience knew what to expect when they came to the concert hall.

What were her family members expecting? What were her friends thinking? What would happen if something went wrong? She swallowed again, feeling nothing but dry parchment in her throat.

A dark wing settled over her coat. It calmed her almost instantly.

“Peace, Octavia,” she heard Luna whisper to her. It helped, if only a little. “You are prepared for this. I know that well.” At least some pony did. Still, one was far better than none.

“Actually, introduce myself before Luna.” Celestia’s voice cut through the air, making Octavia’s ears twist. She blinked at the alabaster alicorn, who only smiled fondly back towards her. It was only for a moment before she turned back towards the cracked door. “My sister will be the last before our Guest of Honor.”

The pony on the other side of the door muttered something unintelligible, the door shutting lightly shortly afterwards. Probably preparing a speech, like a conductor before a grand symphony. It was… more fuel on the fire in the concert hall.

“Sister, are you sure?”

“I am, Luna,” Celestia replied to Luna almost instantly. “Of all the small changes we’ve made for an introduction of a new alicorn, this is hardly the most troubling.” It was probably only the kindness in her voice that kept Octavia from assuming the worst in her words. The smile she adorned when she looked back to her helped. “We are already asking much of you, Octavia. All we can do now is help make this as comfortable possible.”

Octavia, searching her mind, could not remember when she asked for Luna to stay with her longer. There was a knock on the door, a clear a sign as any to start the march. Octavia saw Princess Twilight straighten herself, lavender aura pushing any unwanted frills from her dress.

“I’ll be going then. Good luck, Octavia.” Said cellist had only enough time to lift her hoof before Twilight began to march towards the door.

As she did, it opened for her, likely a practiced display. She couldn’t recall ever practicing it herself. But no sooner did the door open than did Twilight walk through the now open door way than did an applause of clapping hooves come barreling through it. Octavia had to stiffen her wings to keep them from jumping out of her sides.

There was a lot of noise, a concert hall’s worth of ponies at least. That many ponies, all focused solely on the mare that came walking out of the double doors. Right now it was Twilight, but soon, eventually, it was going to be her. Not her without a dozen other members of the Canterlot Orchestra. Just her, her alone, and likely full of much more shock than awe.

“Peace, Octavia,” She heard Luna whisper down to her again, the wing over her back tightening. She was truly thankful for the contact. “There is little reason to fret. You are ready for this.” Was she?

“She’s right, you know.” Octavia recognized the voice as Princess Cadance. She turned her head, only her head, to see the pink alicorn and her husband both standing side-by-side, preparing to walk through the same door as Twilight did. Why didn’t they look nervous? Octavia’s mouth was dry. “We may have only just met, but if you’re probably the only mare I’ve met that can talk to Aunt Luna without calling her princess.” She winked, but too high to be winking at Octavia.

“Besides, Twili said she knows you can do it,” Shining Armor now, smirking like Vinyl after one of her ‘sets’. “And if there’s one thing my sister will never do, it’s lie about what she doesn’t know. If says she knows something, you can take it as hard fact.” What was he saying?

Before she could ask the question, there come more mumbling from beyond the door, just as loud as before. More knocks soon followed. Octavia knew now what they were signaling. So did the princess and prince of the Crystal Empire.

“That’s our cue,” Cadance spoke in a sing-song voice. Shining Armor nodded beside her. They both gave Octavia one last look of confidence, a grin with a strong nod, before marching for the door.

As it was with Princess Twilight, the doors opened upon their approach, applause rang through and past them, and the Royal Couple entered the dining hall.

When the door shut again, it left only the diarch’s of Canterlot and Octavia in the anything-but-small waiting room. She still felt nervous enough to shake through the floor. Something was going to go wrong, horribly wrong, and she knew it.

“It’s easy to assume things will go awry,” Celestia spoke to her, earning her instant attention. She looked up to see the perfectly groomed princess smiling down at her, angling her head to make it anything but elitist. “When so much so easily goes wrong in an average day, it's almost impossible to imagine a crucial event like this could off without a hitch.” At least she understood.

“I don’t believe your words are helping, sister,” Luna spoke Octavia’s thoughts. That was fortunate, as Octavia couldn’t feel like talking through the orb in throat.

“Discord teaches with questions, I shine light on the past,” Celestia answered, eyes never leaving Octavia’s own. It felt little different than Luna’s wing over her back. It was… comforting. “Expecting what you want to happen will almost certainly make it so. Rather than worry about what hasn’t happened, might I suggest focusing on what is here?” Her head lifted to Luna.

The two shared a silent conversation, their eyes locking and saying not a word. Octavia was nearly deafened by the volume. It was only so much worse when another knock came from the door. She had missed the muted announcement from the pony beyond it.

“And now it is my turn.” Celestia sounded positively joyful. Octavia hadn’t an idea how. “Remember not to rush when it is your turn. There is all the time in the world.”

With her piece said, the Solar Princess turned from the pair, trotting towards the door with a grace no other pony possessed. They opened upon her approach, a roar of applause coming from beyond once more, full now with cheers. When the doors shut again, only Luna and Octavia remained.

She was still nervous, and nothing had fixed that.

The wing on her back tightened, holding her close to a source of warmth. Octavia took in a deep breath with it, savoring it, trying to keep it to herself. It made her forget at least, if only a little.

“Octavia,” Luna spoke her name once more, imploring more than whispering. “You are ready for this.”

“Am I?” Octavia felt herself ask, only to immediately wish back the words. No instrument in her mind, however, could command her magic to do such a thing. “I feel like a foal preparing for her entrance to school.”

“You are far greater than any foal I have ever met, and more than their parents or ancestors.” Only Luna could say those words and make sense. Well… her and her sister. “You have been thrown into a situation that no other mare or stallion could hope to understand, yet you dove through it with a strength most others would only dream of. I know, because many dreams of the night are filled with hopes for strength.”

Octavia could take Luna’s word for that. Then again, she could take the dark alicorn’s words for anything. She trusted the lunar princess, implicitly. There were no words around that.

But the wing lifted off her, releasing Octavia from the small blanket of warmth. She felt the chill in the air immediately. She couldn’t tell if she was shaking from the sudden breeze or her own nerves. But before she could deduce which, Luna trotted in front of her, stopping only when they looked eye to eye.

“I know you have thought highly of me all this time, thinking that I must be of sound mind and body to be able to aid you in this journey of yours.” She was anything but wrong. “Yet, Octavia, it is you that they will admire more than this. I am but an outsider in this journey of yours, a pony to aid you, perhaps guide for the moment, but never the one to endure what you have done.”

Octavia swallowed on nothing, parching the paper that lined her throat.

“Of all that I am sure of, I can tell you this: You have more strength in your heart than any of the guards who have patrolled our castle. You have more wisdom in your mind than many of the scholars of the past. But more than that, you have more freedom in your spirit than even the youngest of foals.”

Octavia didn’t know what to say.

“You, Octavia Melody, are an alicorn more of mind and soul than you are of body. Of any mare that was meant to have this happen to, I can see clearly why it was you.”

Her eyes were watering, dew collecting over them. Octavia could see that, but only for a moment. Not long did she have her own vision obscured by the liquid. She hurriedly sniffled it away, for fear of ruining the perfect grooming she had undergone.

The knock on the door helped.

“It is my turn,” Luna spoke not of question. “I look forward to see you once more.” She smiled down at her, Octavia back to her, before turning away.

Door opens, crowd cheers, door shuts. Now, however, Octavia was alone.

Alone with her thoughts, her ideas… and everything she had tried to stay in company to avoid. She trotted closer to the door, staring at the thick hard oak, sturdy enough to endure a pummeling from an army, yet thin enough to relinquish sound from the other side.

Nervously, like a foal late a night, Octavia placed her perked ear against the door. It was muffled still, like being spoken through a towel, but Octavia could make out the voice on the other side.

“-guests of Canterlot, I am honored to introduce the guest of honor.” Octavia’s stomach felt empty and hollow. “She is a mare all of you know, either close as family well-off as a friend, but one you recognize even with the barest of sights. A master in her craft, she has undergone a journey these past few months.” Was… was the stallion going to tell her story?

No, Octavia shook her head. That was for her to say. This was merely an introduction, the border of an outline. She would tell the rest… all of it. Breath slowly entered and left her lungs.

“Aided by the princesses, encouraged by her peers, she has finally reached the point to show you how far she has come, and why this journey of hers affects us all.”

Here it comes….

“Mares and Stallions, I give you the First Chair Cellist of the Canterlot Orchestra, Ms. Octavia Melody.”

Without a knock, the door opened.

Author's Note

Well, hiatus is over. Next part is where the fun begins and ends.

Thank you all for your patience. I hope the product I have leaves you suitably satisfied.

The Harmony: Part 2

Octavia couldn’t remember a time a room ever felt so still.

The floor she walked across was more fluid than the air she breathed. It was as if time had frozen the world, its last act to open the doors separating Octavia the alicorn from her unaware family and friends. Forget the floor, falling to the earth felt like a more forgiving surface.

But now was not the time to think, not about how she felt. Not when her friends were waiting for her, not when it mattered most. She drew in a deep breath of stale air, marching through the doorway.

She trotted gracefully into the dining hall, head held high and wings tight to her sides. Though she was here only earlier today, having both planned and prepared the room in its entirety with the aid of Luna, it still felt like she was walking into a brand new world.

Octavia trotted past the pony who had told her secret, a stallions dressed in dark gold and a coat to match. His expression was neutral, likely more practiced than the rising of the sun. He said nothing and reacted not at all when she walked by. At the railings of the stairway, looking down over the set tables and dining hall, Octavia stopped herself to gaze upon the room.

All eyes were on her, as she well expected. Eyes full of wonder, of awe, of shock, and of disbelief. She looked at each and everyone of them, staring at them as she would a new musical piece.

She saw the members of the Apple Family, friends she had made not but a few weeks prior.

She saw them and many more members of the large family. Octavia saw Candy and Caramel smiling up at her, looking at her as if she were a gift on their birthday. She saw Tart sitting behind them, grinning with his eyes fixed on her.

But then across from and around them, she saw other members of the family, members she knew only through name and conversation. A stallion red as the sun and matching Tart’s frame, looking with an expression caught between bemused and confused. An elder mare beside him, far more expressive with her slack jaw and screwed eyes. Then a foal between them, gaping in wonder.

Then she saw Fiddlesticks, the friend who had taught her of energy in symphony. She wasn’t staring in joy, in shock, or much at all. Her yellow coated doppelganger was nodding, fixing her alabaster hat as she did so. Confidence, gifted without a word.

Drifter sat just beside her, looking almost as bashful as Octavia felt. Almost. He was still as a statue, no different than every other pony in the hall, but still able enough to show something other than terror in his gaze. That was faith, faith in Octavia. Perhaps it was blind, and unfortunately likely so, but it was more faith in her than she, herself, felt.

Octavia’s eyes turned scarcely, but they set upon a group of friends she had heard much of, but met only a few.

The Former Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, now guardians of sorts for Equestria. There was a pony with an orange coat, adjusting a hat little different than Fiddlestick’s, likely trying to reassess her eyes. A pink maned pegasus, mouth hidden behind her hooves, even more of her body hidden behind her wings. A unicorn with an alabaster coat, her hoof to her chest in shock, likely disbelief. A fluffy pink earth pony, who looked ready to scream with joy, eyes larger than any stomach Octavia had ever seen or heard of.

Then there was a pegasus with a mane of rainbows, with strong wings flared and hooves on the table. She stared with pink eyes in wonder, likely fighting an urge Octavia couldn’t understand. She knew that only because of the princess beside said pegasus, Princess Twilight Sparkle.

The lavender alicorn was smiling up to her, her eyes full of wisdom, knowledge, and faith. All things she had given to Octavia, through practice or example. All things she needed now. She showed that wisdom now, having a hoof over the rainbow maned pegasus, holding the mare from flying into the air. She had predicted what would come, and acted accordingly.

Just as Octavia was to do in music, just as she was to do now. And, ironically, just as the figure next to the six of them liked to change.

Beside Princess Twilight, across from the pink maned pegasus, sat the copiously compiled draconequus, Discord. He looked no different than when he had intruded in the waiting room, had no more appendages on him or around him, and was holding no extra dimensional object in his grasp. He only stared up at her, lightly beating the talons and digits of his claw and paw together, waiting. Waiting for what Octavia hoped wouldn’t come.

Another small twist of her head, and she saw another group of ponies. This was a group she had been with for a non-insignificant portion of her life.

The Canterlot Orchestra, mares and stallions that she had practiced with most days and many nights. Together they had played symphonies written ages ago, celebrated performances that had attracted audiences from across the land, far beyond Equestria’s borders. The members of the strings, that could play any tune swift or slow. The percussionists, able to shake the theatre hall. The brass performers, bellowing tunes that could make one rumble with anticipation.

They were all there, every last one of them. Just as many as when Discord performed his chaotic symphony, and equal to the number of ponies Octavia practiced with. They were all staring at her, all with expressions that were far and away from calm or controlled. There was confusion in their eyes, disbelief as well, but the one expression she so commonly saw in their numbers was the one she hated the most; betrayal.

And two ponies that wore it the most were the two she would have traded her life to prevent. Octavia’s mother and father.

Former members of the Canterlot Orchestra, master musicians in their generation, retired with honors to raise a foal they had together, to raise Octavia together. They were the ones who raised her from birth. Late-night stories to lull her to sleep, diligent hours of practiced always followed with promises of success, hug and kisses to sweep the worries of the world away, and life lessons delivered through both actions and words.

Octavia so frequently saw them smiling together that seeing them in any other light almost looked wrong. Now was no different. Now she felt the same cold dread she had just barely beaten away before come dripping back into the core of her heart. The upturned frown on her father’s face, the quivering lips over her mother’s lips, they were both matched with wide teary eyes. They didn’t know what to think, but they had deserved to know, and Octavia didn’t give them that. Betrayal indeed.

She looked away, she had to. Maybe faster than was necessary, likely lacking the grace all the princesses had shown before her, but Octavia could stare at the Orchestra or her parents for a moment longer, not without tears coming to her own gaze. That possibility was far from gone. Instead her eyes settled on another cornerstone of her life, another pair of friends, new and old; two mares that embodied freedom in two different ways.

One DJ Vinyl Scratch, as she enjoyed calling herself. It was almost relieving to see her friend donning her usual lavender shades, too thick to see the magenta eyes that lay beneath. Her neon mane was still spiked at odd angles, looking more fitting at a late night bar then a dining hall for royalty. However, all of that, complete with her friend’s near signature smirk, helped Octavia’s uneasy heart in ways words did no justice.

Just beside her was another mare that Octavia considered a dear friend, one she had known for less than a few months now. Ditzy Doo, the wall-eyed delivery mare. Only one of her golden orbs was focused on Octavia, the other seemingly looking at the long dinner table she sat at. Her equally golden mane was combed messily, her grin just as lopsided, but she looked every bit the mare Octavia could depend on for kind honesty.

It showed all the more with the small foal by her side, equal shades of gray in their coat. It took little time to see the wonder in the filly’s eyes, sparkling as if her horn were alight. It took just as long to see where Ditzy received her motherly instincts from. Doubtlessly, though they had never met, Octavia was sure she was gazing upon Dinky. They would have to speak later…

Speak… she still had to speak.

Another slow breath of air, the loudest sound in the grand dining hall. If just a pitch higher, Octavia was fearful that her breath would shatter the stillness of the air. And yet she would have to speak, give a speech, talk with a confidence she sorely lacked. How was that to be done?

It was only the practice of music that kept her eyes from frantic searching, her hooves from nervous twitching. Spontaneous movements served little purpose and gave few results when handling an instrument as delicate and powerful as the cello. A voice in her mind told her that a speech to her peers would be little different.

But she still searched the crowd, slowly and methodically. There had to be something, some small thing to lay her eyes on to give her strength, metaphorical or literal, either were fine. Eager faces, expectant faces, nervous faces, hurt faces, so many faces, but none that gave her strength.

Until she settled upon the obvious ones.

Princess Luna and Princess Celestia, the royal diarchs of Canterlot and all of Equestria. Unsurprisingly, they looked no different than when she had seen them only a few moments prior, though it felt like a lifetime now. They were both looking to her, the only two to be looking at her with a gaze different than everyone else. There was a hint of expectation in each of their gazes, a tint of curiosity, but more than anything else, Octavia saw serenity. She saw it more in the darker of the two.

Luna, looking to her through her ethereal mane, her eyes imploring Octavia, encouraging her, cheering her on with sight alone. And Octavia could feel it. She could feel it as she felt the same diarch’s wing along her back just as it was before. And it felt good.

She swallowed the ball she felt in her throat, ridding herself of the last excuse to run and hide. Now was the time to speak.

Now was the time to test everything she had been taught, trained, and prepared for.

“H-Hello everyone,” her voice came out shaky and uneven. Not a good start.

Octavia only just managed to hide the grimace her face so desperately wanted to pull. Perhaps later, when she was evaluating her own performance as she so often did. Later, but most certainly not now.

“Let me… begin by thanking you all for coming. It truly means the world to me to know you all could make it.” There were no dishonesties in that statement. For every wide-eyed stare focused on her, a part of her mind told her a pony absence would be even worse.

“I know that you must be feeling confused, probably a bit mortified as well. There are probably more questions in your head then you know what to do with.” Octavia wasn’t even sure herself if she was joking or not.

“I know that’s how you feel, because it’s the same way I felt when I saw myself like… this.”

Speaking the words mortified her. It was even worse when she waved one of her hooves over her body, wings lightly shaking to show their presence even more. She bit her tongue to hide a grimace.

A blessed murmur ran through the dining hall, light as a spring’s drizzle. It was the first break in the air since her entrance, the first noise made other than her. It almost weird to be thankful for such an odd thing. Octavia put the thought from her mind. She had to focus, now.

“I had… no more warning for this than any of you did. I simply woke up in the morning, some months ago, and found myself with a new pair of wings and a horn to match.” Now a grin pulled at her lips. She hated the action even as her body fought her for it. She hoped her distance above the ponies would hide it well enough.

“There were no warnings or indications, no promises or trades made. I simply… for lack of a better term, ascended.” Even after months of work that was the only term Octavia could truly think to call this. Changed was too minor. It didn’t have the weight that this did, the weight that currently sat in her stomach, which grew with every second that passed under multiple gazes of scrutiny.

“It was frightening, horrific even, not even knowing if I was myself anymore. Seeing a mare in the mirror that looked so similar and yet so different.” Memories that Octavia did not enjoy to see worked their way to her lips. “I thought for the day entire I was stuck in a fever dream, unable to wake up. More than a dozen times I counted the items in my room, looking for any hint that it was all in my mind, yet I never found one.”

Maybe as a trick of a fate, maybe as an instinct in her mind, Octavia’s eyes flicked towards Vinyl. More than any other part of the neon-maned unicorn, Octavia saw that her lips were no longer pulled into a confident smirk. She was thinking back to that day as well, probably just know thinking about what Octavia felt. Octavia did the same for her.

“It wasn’t until Vinyl Scratch came into my room that I realized how real this all was.” Octavia heard more than saw the rustling of ponies looking towards the DJ pony. Her own eyes were still fixed on the alabaster mare. “She could see that I was terrified, mortified even. And even though she was my friend… is my friend, I could not stop the thought that my life as I knew it was over.”

The silence had changed. It was just as prevalent, just as thick. But now, it was made of something else other than shock. It was made of what Octavia had felt earlier. Earlier as in a few moments and a few months.

It was made of dread. She could fix that. She had to fix that.

“Were I the same mare as I was back then, I would never have been able to show myself to you all as I am now. In fact, I have no idea what I would have done, or where’d I be.” Again, no dishonesty, no lies.

“My body changed in the span of a night. But over the past few months, with the aid of friends old and new, my mind began to change as well.”

Octavia could see the ponies in the dining hall who knew of what she spoke. She saw Vinyl’s smirk return with a vengeance, Fiddle crossing her forehooves with a beaming gaze, Ditzy smiling with an open mouth, and perhaps most importantly, Princess Luna’s calm gaze. The cellist drew in a slow breath before continuing.

“Vinyl Scratch, an enduring friend of mine, made plans to help me within moments of understanding what happened to me.” The unicorn nodded as sagely as she could. It still appeared that she was merely bobbing her head to some unheard rhythm. “From there, she only spent more time helping me with my magic, encouraging me with her music, and never failing to be there for me. I never knew the depths of loyalty until she showed them to me.” The stars was dimmer than the DJ’s grin.

“Ditzy Do, a delivery mare I met only through arrangements from royalty, showed exactly how to control my wings.” Octavia grinned. If not for her words, then for watching the small foal Dinky chatter excitedly up to Ditzy. Said mare gaze back at her. “But more than that, she showed me that limitations weren’t real, that all hurdles in life can become strengths. And, all of this, she taught with smiles and encouragement. I never would have expected so much out of another pony. Ditzy showed me kindness in a way only a mother knows how to show.” Dinky was clapping her hooves for her mother. It resounded through the silence following Octavia’s words, but only briefly.

“Fiddlesticks of the Apple Family.” Said doppelganger straightened herself up as she spoke, Tart nudging her lightly from behind. Octavia saw Twilight’s hat-wearing friend nod towards her as well. “A mare living a life so opposite to my own, despite looking so strikingly my twin. Even before our first meeting, she organized for me to stay with her family, to live and eat with them without question. Their only request was a bit of music to help their work. Fiddlesticks and I played together, and we did so with unmatched energy.” Octavia brushed over the finer details. “Three days were all I spent in her company, but she showed me more generosity than some ponies do in their entire life.”

“Drifter, a pegasus I met by pure chance,” said blue stallion only shook out of his seat when she said his name. He clearly wasn’t expecting to receive any kind of attention. To his credit, Octavia didn’t realize his importance until she thought about it. “I honestly saw very little of him, but whenever I did, he was nothing but honest with what he felt. That honesty gave me ease, and that ease made all the tasks that followed so much simpler. Even briefly, if but a hint, Drifter conveyed the importance and power in honesty.” Octavia was sure she had never seen a pony, be it mare or stallion, look so nervously pleased.

“Discord,” Octavia spoke the draconequus’s name with an audible dip her voice. It was a strange comfort, a change not due to nervousness or fear. It was probably just unexpected enough for the mad god to enjoy it. His grin, expanding beyond the edges of long face said as much. “He, in ways only he will ever know, has helped me understand who I know am. Not with lessons or examples, but questions that I had to answer. And answering those questions has shown me more than I ever would expect.” It wasn’t strange, far from it, but the smug look of satisfaction was right at home on the top-hat wearing mischief maker. “Finding joy and laughter where most others see only confusion or fear, that is something I will never forget.”

“And perhaps more than any other pony, Princess Luna.” It was impossible to miss the second murmur of noise that ran through the hall. Firecrackers were softer, but Octavia blamed the previous silence. “She has aided me in every way a mare can help another. She gave me comfort when my worries became too great, advice when I didn’t know what to do, lessons in flight, instruction in magic, and even duets between our music. Thanks, be it simple or otherwise, will never be enough.” She felt herself smiling, each memory as clear as the air at night. Her eyes saw Luna smiling as well. She hoped it was for the same reason; she knew it was.

“I have made many friends in the months that have passed, friends that I can say with certainty and fact have shown me the true strength in numbers. I can never say with words the thanks I have for them. And Luna, the mare who has only encouraged me to meet and learn with them, has shown me the magic that is friendship.” The weight was lifting in her stomach. It was lifting because, staring at Luna, she felt lighter than air.

“They’ve all helped me, in so many ways more than I thought ponies were able to help one another.” Octavia turned her gaze now to the couple in the room she had known for beyond all her life. They stared back at her, gaze far more comforting than before. It was so much easier to smile at her parents when they were smiling back at her. “I owe them all more than I may ever be able to repay.”

The gazes were easier on her now. There were still just as many eyes upon her, just as many ponies staring at her with wonder and abandon, but now she saw nothing she loathed. There were no nervous expressions, no hints of disgust, and perhaps most importantly, no faces of betrayal. In the eyes of her friends, colleagues, and family, Octavia Melody saw nothing to fear.

To be sure, not all gazes were of bliss. There was still curiosity, confusion, and perhaps a bit of trepidation, but nothing more than she felt everyday so far in front of a mirror. Her words had done a lot, had done more than she thought they could ever do. But it wasn’t enough.

Words alone very rarely were. Her parents, the mare and stallion that now gazes at her with forehooves clasped together, had taught her as such. When words fail to go far enough, or the other party remains unconvinced, always show through what is left through action. Language of the heart will trump all else.

“My words and testimony will not do justice to what these ponies have done for me, but I wish for you all to know just how greatly they have helped me change, to accept and understand who I now I am.” That was important, because how could they accept her unless they knew she accepted herself?

Another soft murmur, the third this time, traveled through the crowd. Curiosity this time, as Octavia knew the question would draw. How else were they expected to react? But that was good, right now at least. It was a curiosity she had seen other ponies cultivate before.

Curiosities for a performance always drew the most enthralled of crowds.

Octavia slipped lightly to her side, traveling towards and down the staircase. Her hooves hardly made a sound over the fabric that lined the steps. But for each step she took, the sound in the air dropped an audible notch, coming again to the dead silence before she had even reached half way. It was as unnerving as ever, but Octavia expected it.

They were focused now, not shocked. They were watching her to observe, not to gape in awe. This was better. It was no different than how the many ponies in the audience would act at a performance hall, watching the musicians in their craft. She could handle that with grace.

Her hooves clicked as she walked across the tiled floor, on the ground next to the many tables. All eyes were on her as she marched. She gave her own glace to each curious gaze, ponies lightly muttering to themselves. For more than a few, she would have liked to stop and talk, to chat and explain, but her duty called. It was a job she had sworn to many years ago. Not even a pair of wings and horn would change that.

It took little time for her to reach the curtain of the stage, pulled shut and likely ignored. Why think of such a plain thing when so much more was happening? An audience preferred to talk amongst themselves so long as the curtain was closed. But when it was drawn, conversation ceased.

This would be the first conversations were already at an end before the drape was pulled.

A low cello rumbled through Octavia’s mind, one she had known the sound of since a young age. She felt horn alight with the sound. Near in tandem, the soft mutterings of the dining hall turned into quickened gossip. One only needed the mind of a foal to wonder what they were thinking of. It mattered little to think of now. They’re questions would be answered by demonstrations now.

The cello in Octavia’s mind grew in volume, her gray aura pulling over the curtains as she did so. With a small change in note, a rise in pitch, the curtains began to draw themselves back. Large and heavy, red with anticipation, the drapes folded themselves against far walls, revealing the items behind.

When they became clear to sight, even Octavia felt her breath stolen away.

They were the instruments of an Orchestra, laid out in the manner any musician worth her skill would know. The brass near the back, wind instruments just before them, violas up front, the violins to the left, percussion in the far rear, and the near-sacred heavy strings to just the right. It was all exactly as it should be. Octavia and Luna had both seen to it.

This was how she and Luna had arranged them, the first things they had organized when assembling the dining hall. Each knew well how to organize the instruments, both having a love for the symphonies and harmonies a well designed orchestra could create. There was, to be simple, no replacement.

But what made Octavia forget the breath in her lungs were not the instruments or how they were lain out. It was that none of them were the same ones she and Luna had placed before. The first instruments were all made of well crafted oak, perfectly smelted brass, expertly drawn and sewn percussions for the drums. They looked every bit the part of an Orchestra.

These… These all had the design of the night upon them.

Each instrument radiated with a dark light that captivated her gaze. The reflected dark hues of blue and black, dotted with white spots that seemed to gleam. The strings created trails for comets, the holes in the flutes made up the empty parts of the sky, and on and on. Simply, Octavia was no longer looking at a simple orchestra, no matter how immaculate. She was gazing upon a collection of instruments designed for, and quite possibly by, the night.

But in front of all them, sitting where the conductor would normally stand, was a cello. It was a cello so much like her own, and yet so different from the many that now made up this orchestra. It was not colored as the night, not designed to be a part of the endless sky. It was, by straight comparison, very plain.

Just one solid lavender, up and down and likely around. The same four strings, likely pulled and tuned to the most careful of degrees, and a bow of the same color sitting on the chair it leaned on.

It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever laid eyes on.

It took a moment for Octavia to hear the questions from the ponies behind her; her ears momentarily mute to the sound. Her mind was able to connect quickly where this had happened, when this had happened.

Luna was late, late to a party she had arranged and swore to be prompt for. Late to change, or likely redesign, the instruments. Octavia turned to face her, curiosity in her gaze. In the eyes of the lunar diarch, she saw only eagerness. It was… almost surprising.

A silent conversation went between them, muted and crystal clear through the many ponies that chatted and gazed upon the Orchestra. Luna had changed the instruments to her night, had substituted Octavia’s cello for one colored as her cutie mark, complementary to her coat. That cello, and the gray alicorn behind it, would control and lead the rest of the orchestra.

Luna was asking Octavia to guide her night in song.

It was nearly enough to draw tears from her eyes. In the very least, it made her chest quiver with a feeling so similar to nervousness, yet so indefinably more welcome. This was so much more than a small favor or a minor task. This… this was what stories were written about, legends even.

Her mouth was dry, forcing her to swallow on nothing to wet it. It was humorous even, because her eyes felt damp and only moments away from spilling. Even her wings quivered, ready to send her into flight. It was the most expressive way she could think of to show joy and appreciation. Ditzy had taught her that.

And Luna, through all of her calm actions and graceful appearance, had the tiniest crack in the façade she wore. Through the murmurings that still persisted through the room, through the eyes that looked from her to the lunar colored instruments, Octavia saw the same misty gaze in Luna’s eyes. The same wet expression that so carefully teetered the line of joy and sorrow.

Their eyes looked only at one another, not even hinting towards a glance anywhere else. Luna had given her confidence, had given her a path, had even given her a future that at one point seemed so impossible. And now, the lunar princess was offering Octavia what the cellist was sure no other stallion or mare had ever been permitted to do.

She could not, and would not disappoint.

With the surest of nods, and the calmest of grins, Octavia turned away from the mare, walking up the stage left. The murmurs became whispers, slowly disappearing into nothing. That meant they were focused again. That was good. Octavia felt just as motivated herself.

Her hooves clicked as she walked across the stage, reaching the lavender cello. In an action she knew well, better than any other part of herself, she gripped the neck of the wooden instrument, fetlock wrapping around the strings as her other hoof reached for her bow. They felt light as air in her grasp, meant to be there, destined even. The thought made her smile.

Her long gray wings lightly wrapped around the sides of the lavender base, the colors melding together seamlessly, beautifully. It all seemed right. It all felt…. correct. It was one of the greatest comforts she had.

“Many of you know me for my skills with the cello,” her words came out softly, but grew in volume the more she spoke. “I have neither improved nor lessened in many handling of this instrument. But with the help of Princess Luna, and all of the friends who have offered me nothing but support, I have learned how to do so much more.”

Eyes shut, ears perked, Octavia guided the lavender bow to the strings of the cello. She stopped only when she felt the strings bounce lightly at contact, her hoof bending into a familiar crux. It was almost humorous. She had not an idea of what song she would play, but she felt not even the slightest sense of unease.

In fact, she knew exactly what to say.

“I ask you, as my dearest friends and family, to hear what I can do.”

Octavia felt her horn alight before she drew her bow across the strings.

BEGIN

The drums were hit twice, silencing any other noise throughout the hall. Their rumble quickly vanished, their noise not meant to linger. But the quick clash of noise they made was swiftly followed, even carried, but another instrument close by. It wasn’t Octavia’s cello.

The piano, painted and drawn like the shower of stars on a clear night, played through the air. Its notes were soft, noticed only by silence of the drums, but unmistakably present. They were notes played with purpose, with meaning, for the princess that had offered Octavia this chance. It only made sense that she, or at least her instrument, led the Orchestra of the Night.

The drums beat once more, but only once. The piano grew louder with the volume, rising to the challenge then percussions made. Octavia could heard the notes of the key instrument play as clearly to her ears as it did in her mind. She knew her horn was alight, but she dare not look while she played. The night needed her focus, the song her guidance. Her wings flexed across her lavender cello.

Another beat of the drums, another rise in the piano’s volume, but now, Octavia joined in.

She pulled her bow across the strings, commanding the violins with her gray aura to join in as well. The winds joined just as quickly, the soft grasp of the flute momentarily taking center stage. It played only a few notes, enough to lead the audience in a short dance through the mind. It just as quickly filtered off and away, the violins and her cello rising to match its performance.

Her cello grew strong as the flute returned, only to find the violins would not so easily bend now. Their dance turned into a duet, lifted and encouraged by the piano and drums. Every note was played with purpose, no one instrument drowning the other. They lifted, they spun, the encouraged, and even supported, but they never hindered, never faltered. The music only grew in volume, in pitch, in grace.

Before all at once, with a clash of cymbals, it fell silent.

For a few beats in a measure, the dining hall was as noiseless as the void, not even a breath reaching Octavia’s perked ears. Still as stone, tense as taut rope, every pony, Octavia included, waiting for what would come next.

Octavia did not disappoint.

The percussions beat the cymbals, crashing to welcome the rise of all else. The violins and strings played dancing chords, opening up for the rise of the brass and flutes. They rose in patience, rising only to allow the piano to sift through. And through all else, the cello reigned supreme.

Octavia felt the hollow instrument vibrate and hum with her bow, the strings commanding her as much as she controlled the music of the orchestra. She listened to its requests, following the music it told her to make, and thoroughly agreeing with every sound it produced. The rise, the falls, the crashes, the rides, the music, the symphony. It was perfect.

And so she let it soften to a near silent end.

Every instrument came to a soft end, all letting their last note jump and fall into the void of noise. All that remained, all that played, was the lunar piano in the recess of the orchestra.

Heavenly, like the plane the night resided in. That was the word Octavia gave to the melody the piano left off with. The slow chords it played, accompanied by the rising octaves it listed up and down. Twinkling stars surrounding a captivating moon.

It was wonderful, simply and utterly wonderful. So much so that Octavia didn’t want to stop. This was a song of the night, made and led by her magic, offered strength by Luna’s hoof.

So as the piano continued to play on, the percussion cut in once more. Then the strings, then the winds, and the brass. Then… all at once, it rose again. Her symphony that was to a new birth, the proof and evidence of who she was now. It showed all of what Octavia Melody was capable of…

As the music continued to play, flawlessly repeating it, Octavia could see what it meant to her, what her magic, her magic of the music of the soul, was trying to show.

Her journey began without warning, a beat of a drum. It was quick, jarring, and nearly threw her off. But the grace of the night, the uplifting rise of the piano, guided her to a place of peace, it consoled, it lifted, and it encouraged others to help her in that once so desperate time of need.

With amazing fluidity, friends and strangers began to help her, the familiar strings to the foreign flutes, all helping her out. They stepped aside when one wanted to speak, but spoke up when there was more to add. Their talks built on one another, all changing from hints and advice to lessons for life.

And at the apex, when none of the instruments knew what to do, they let everything loose.

They shouted out what made them great, showed off why they were who they were, made it clear, with crashing cymbals, elegant chords, and loud whistles of wind, just why they were revered, loved, and above all else, alive. They each had a part in the journey, in the winding path, and it was impossible to ignore any one of them.

They fell only to rise, each one allowing the deep cello to ring through, its glory only rising with every low chord it played. Then in the end, when everything else was quiet, the piano slowly carried everything else. It let the song finish, and helped the journey come to an end.

It ended one journey, but that always led into the beginning of another.

The night ended to welcome a new day, and the day rested for the night to begin again. One instrument would calando to allow another to crescendo, only to trade back again. And reaching one end of the road only meant you had to start walking down another.

Life was like an orchestra. No matter how grand one performance was, there would always be another to follow.

END

Octavia opened her eyes, wondering now what her music would let her see.

She saw trails of silver and gold.

Through the dining hall entire, up and down its entire length, there were trails of golden light and silver linings through the air. Like trails of clouds, or beams of light, they sparkled like shattered diamonds. They hovered, floated, as if connected by invisible strings.

But for as a dusty and shimmering as the colors were, it was impossible to ignore what they were, trails. There were without a doubt or thought of confusion trails made from the dusty gold and silver. Lines that darted through the air, reaching from ends of the room to only a few seats. They bend, twirled, and twisted as they needed, but if they could be followed with eyes alone, then trails they were.

They didn’t hum or twinkle as Octavia had come to expect of most magic she could see. She didn’t even hear the remnants of her song, as her own magic so often did. Despite the show of the silver and gold, not a sound was made from the trails. They were as silent as statues, but as vivid as a play.

And those glossy trails of gilded yellow and polished grey lead from one pony to another.

Octavia, hooves still grasped around her cello, eyes the many silvery trails that surrounded her fellow members of the orchestra. They darts from one seat to the next, stretching over the dining table and back, reaching across the room, but most importantly, running right up to her.

Her eyes looked down at the many silvery trails that fell onto her coat, the glossy dust of silver that bleed and vanished into her own gray coat. They were neither warm nor cold, taut or slack, or semblance of existence at all aside from sight. But they were there, and they were extending from her, leading to so many of her fellow members in the orchestra. But they were not the only ones.

She followed another path of silver, her eyes running up to Vinyl Scratch. Her alabaster coated friend was grinning almost manically at the trails, her hooves running along the dust, playing with it like felines and strands of light. The path of silver that connected them was thick and opaque, impossible to ignore.

Octavia’s eyes followed another trail, another strand of silver that ran in a direction other than the orchestra. It found itself connected to Drifter, the single-winged pegasus that had only ever helped her indirectly, but had always done so with few questions. There was a trail of silver that connected, the same dusty gray, but it was almost impossible to say. Transparent, light as air, and out-shined by the multitude of other trails that darted through the air.

The difference was clear as the trails themselves, and they extended left and right across the dining hall entire. Friends clear as daylight staring with renewed affection for one another, distance members following thin trails, nearly shocked by who was waiting at the other end.

Hooves played through the multitude of colors, spinning them and separating them. Octavia saw the ponies she knew to be the most social nearly drowned in the trails they had. Others, much like herself, was easier to spot and see. Princess Celestia shined as if the day and night were one. Princess Luna, just beside her, glistened like the moon without a star to obstruct it.

Whispers of confusion and curiosity were the only sounds made in the dining hall, lightly stopped here and there with excited cheers or laughter. Ponies guessing at what the lines meant, others correcting the confused. But as far as Octavia could tell, by sight and sound, not a pony in the crowd was anything short of joyed to see the work of her magic.

Those were the ties of silver, clear as glass or thick as bricks. The paths of gold, however, were impossible to miss.

She focused on Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor. A thick bond of gold was between them, twinkling like stars in the sun. They were gazing at it is well, lifting their eyes up only to gaze at one another.

Octavia looked to another different path, seeing trails of silver that ran from Vinyl Scratch to Fiddlesticks. That made her eyes focus on the path of gold that extended from her yellow-coated doppleganger, a trail that found its way quickly to the blue pegasus beside her. Both gazed at that trail, one with eagerness and the other with dumb astonishment.

And she saw that same trail of gold run between the ponies that had raised her. Her mother and father, hooves against one another, gazing at the trail as if it were confirmation of their vows. In all likelihood, it was. And those same eyes looked back to her, and Octavia saw the trail of gold that led from them.

A trail of gold, a clear tie, that ran between her parents and herself. Octavia gazed at it, smiling with all the joy her heart could contain as she looked at her parents. Their eyes never wavered as they looked back to her. But that was not the only trail of gold she had.

As the many other ponies in the dining hall followed their own paths, hooves playing deftly to the strands of color that ran to and from them, Octavia followed another path of gold that ran from her gray coat. It was thin, hardly worth notice compared to the band that connected her parents or the rulers of the Crystal Empire, but it was not possible to ignore its existence.

A string of bright gilded gold, silent as every other string in the now glittering room, ran from Octavia Melody to Princess Luna.

Mute as the colors that connected them, the two stared at one another. The humming of activity of ponies around them was forgotten. They simply looked to one another. Two alicorns, ruler and cellist, gazing from the dusty gold string that connected them to one another again.

The line was immutable, impossible to ignore. It was there, a clear trail and line that connected them, shining in a color that connected to only so few others in the room. It was weak, small, like a song still in its rise.

But it was there, and Octavia knew from sight alone, that neither of them wanted it to go away.

And, together, they smiled.

“Oh how I love to see the new being embraced,” Discord mused to himself, twisting his claws about the silver strands that extended and grew from his slytherin torso.

It stretched like taffy, bent like taffy, but when he let go, it always returned to the same straight line. A part of him bet it tasted like taffy as well, sea-salt flavored. He chuckled again, plucking the strands of silver like the strings of the cello. A part of him was almost disappointed to not hear it make a sound.

“But this is just the beginning,” he told himself again, a reminder for what he already knew. His grin only grew with the words, his paw and claw splitting one of the silver strands, separating it like spun yarn. He was playing cat’s cradle with the silvery dust in no time. “Who knows what wonderful little things that Octavia could do now? Maybe she’ll be her own little source of chaos. Now how grand would that be?”

“It would be very rude to wish for such a thing, Discord.” The voice of his shy friend made Discord drop the strings of silver he was playing with. They melded back together in an instant, all without even a pop of sound. They did dust the air with silver, which was a fun sight to see. “Octavia has just done a very brave thing. It would be inappropriate to hope she does this too often in the future.”

“It would be?” Discord asked as if appalled, dragon claw sliding to his throat as he did so. One of his talons caught a spare string of gold as he did so. It looked almost like a necklace. “I thought she did a splendid job of showing how easily brand new shakes up the old, showing what lies beneath with ears over eyes.”

As if to demonstrate his point, Discord flipped his forelimbs over his head, instantly swapping his pupils and ears. Fluttershy appeared patiently unimpressed.

“Oh come now, Fluttershy,” Discord spoke on, a light flash and bang returning his eyes and ears back to their original, if slightly crooked, positions. “Look around you. The little gray cellist has just given me one of the greatest shows I’ve seen in a good long while, and all with me doing little more than asking a few questions. And as far as my old eyes can see, no pony seems anything but pleased by it.”

He wouldn’t have made a point unless he knew it was right. And, when Fluttershy turned her head to see the friends around her, she too saw that there was not a single frown in the crowd. Every mare and stallion, of every age and family, were smiling brightly and pleased, looking from one another as they played with the ties that bound them.

Together, Discord and Fluttershy saw as the members of the Orchestra plucked the silver lines between them, likely similar to how they would handle their own instruments. They watched as Cadance and Shining twirled their hooves about the thick golden bond between them, bright enough to make the candle light moot.

But more than that, they watched as Princess Luna and Octavia Melody spoke to one another, their bond of silvery gold dancing about their hooves with practiced ease. Fluttershy heard Discord chuckle again.

The draconequus held back a mirthful laughter, held back by the promise he had made to the princess and cellist. A rare deal, but one he was obligated in multiple ways to keep.

His mismatched eyes focused on Octavia Melody, on the alicorn so different, so strange, and all together more enjoyable than he ever dreamed she could be. For a god of mischief, that was gift by itself.

“Nothing new is ever seen with grace,” he spoke cryptically as ever. “It’s only when it proves its worth that it is called the norm. And the new norm, no matter how different, is always tended to be loved.”

“Discord… that doesn’t make much sense.” Fluttershy noted lightly, but far and away from chastely. Discord only grinned crookedly before responding.

“Oh Fluttershy, the greatest things in life never do.”

Author's Note

I want to give a personal note of thanks to my devoted editors and pre-readers who have made this story a truly great thing. Believe me when I say that without them, this would be beyond readable.

And of course, I want to thank all of you who read, enjoyed, and contributed to this story with suggestions and votes. I hope you all enjoyed the ride as much as I did.

Who knows? I may add an epilogue later, but that's another story altogether.

Until next time!
~WoW

The Overture

“Okay, okay, once more,” the gray mare coached herself as she paced through her apartment. She had since lost count of how many laps she had trotted through the small space. Something told her it was in the triple digits.

“There’s no reason to fret, none at all,” she spoke to herself, nodding with her own words. Her eyes scanned the dark room, barely lit by the light that filtered through the closed blinds. The light bulb meant to illuminate the room had burnt out at some point; she couldn’t remember when.

“This is my room.” It was a slow start, but a start nonetheless. Again she looked over the dark room, noting the many pages and books stacked neatly upon her desk and dresser, then strewn about the floor or pasted to the walls. Enough charts and extended chords to keep an orchestra busy for week should they have attempted to recite them.

Her eyes continued to scan the familiar setting, passing over the closet that held her bowties and other concert apparel, a small stand filled with perfume, make-up, and other accessories a musician like herself had to pride in. Then lastly came her bed, half-made on one side and twisted on the other.

The gray mare’s gaze stopped on an instrument sitting in the corner of the room. It stood on a masterfully-crafted stand, holding the fragile wood with the utmost care. Cloth padded with cotton held the neck of the stringed instrument, the same material holding the heavy base of the hollow wood.

“My cello,” she whispered more than spoke. The instrument itself was possibly the most familiar thing in the room to the mare. Undecorated with superfluous décor, instead spending every precious bit into constructing and tuning the stringed instrument into a flawless tool of musical bliss. Currently, it was strung to a B Minor Chord, making performing the low rumble of Manezart’s Thirteen Fifth Overture quite a treat.

At least once a day she practiced, long ago memorizing the tuning of each string and the placement her hooves. With a strong bow, she could play nearly any piece known to pony kind, all with a mastered level of skill. Though it had taken much time and even more practice, she had turned her hooves into the perfect tool to control the deep tones and volume of the cello.

“My hooves.” The gray mare noted the ends of her legs, confirming that they were still attached to her legs. Her frazzled mind was having trouble of keeping track of what was where. Thankfully, her hooves were still there. Four flat fetlock-attached ends of her legs. Each one was well groomed and cared for, as all musicians had to be.

She adjusted her weight on each one, feeling the hard wood beneath them as they each bore more or less stress. The mare let herself sway on them for a moment, making absolutely sure that her hooves were unchanged. Her shoulders rolled as she finished, sure that her hooves were the same as her cello- the same as they used to be. The action made her long dark mane fall over her eyes. She flicked her head to adjust the extensive strands of hair.

“My mane.” The pony’s mane was another facet about her that remained unchanged after her hundredth examination of the room. It was still long enough to nearly drag upon the floor, but groomed with the utmost skill. In order for her to play in the grand theatres of Canterlot, she had to look and act like a proper mare. Proper mares, as she was taught, took care of their manes with the same level of scrutiny Universities judge their students.

Her hoof lifted to idly brush it, hoping to secure a few loose strands back into the fold. Loose bangs led to split ends, which was highly inappropriate for a first chair cellist to have. That was when her hoof touched on her forehead. Or, more specifically, the object resting on her forehead.

“My… my horn…” She spoke the word again, sounding it out like it was the first time she had ever used it. Truthfully, it was the first time she had used those words in that order.

Resting in the center of her head was a long, swirled horn, ending in a sharp point that her crossed eyes could just barely make out. It split through her mane and rested securely to the top of her skull.

At this point, the mare was certain it was real, or at least as real as the sudden appearance of new appendages could be. She had rammed it into a wall, hit it with her hooves, and attempted to pry it free with just about every object she could reach. A few bent pans and broken brooms were proof of her efforts. Despite her efforts, the appendage remained fixed upon her head just as strongly as before. It was real, and it wasn’t going anywhere. The gray mare started to breathe deeply again.

As she did, her sides flexed, forcing another addition to her body to jut outwards. Her head twisted to see them once more, still unable to conceive what she saw.

“And… m-my wings.” Her breath started to quicken again. In time with her hyperventilation, her wings began to lightly beat up and down, waving like she would her hoof to a passing friend. It didn’t make her feel anything but terror.

She could feel the air of her room, stuffy as it was with closed windows and locked doors, passing through her newly-adorned gray feathers. She could feel the sweat from her new muscles trickling down to her primaries. She couldn’t tell if she was shaking or shivering.

The mare took a deep breath in and then released it. She did it once more. Then again, and again, and again. The effect was always the same.

Nothing in the room changed. Her cello still stood on its stand, her hooves still attached to the end of her legs, her mane was still long and well poised, her coat was still gray and damp with sweat, her horn was still jutting and sharp, and her wings were still shaking and extended.

That mare desperately wished everything about this was reversed. Her cello could be lying on the ground, damaged along the spine. Her mane could be a mess, requiring hours of salon work to recover. Her coat could be a mess, ungroomed and overgrown. All of that could happen if only the horn on her head and wings on her back were gone.

She could think of no ways in which this could possibly be worse.

“Yo Octavia! I’m back!” A voice yelled outside clear as day despite the muffling of the door.

It took only that voice for the gray mare to freeze.

It was worse.

“V-Vinyl…” She attempted her best to speak her friend’s name with a chipper tone. It sputtered and slipped out of her mouth more like a confession. She hoped that her friend couldn’t tell through the door.

“Is something wrong Octy?” No such luck.

Octavia panicked. No, she was already panicking before. She was mortified now. Her head swiveled left and right, looking for something, anything, which could possibly help her. She couldn’t find anything the hundred times before. She didn’t find anything new now.

“Uh… y-yeah!” He words sounded as convincing as a guilty foal. “Just… Um, uh, g-getting over a small case of hay fever.” It wasn’t her best lie, one of few in fact, but she couldn’t think of anything to say so quickly.

“Oh, that sucks.” A low sigh of relief came from Octavia, thankful that one thing went her way so far. “Here, gimme a sec and I’ll help you out. Just gotta put some stuff away. Shopping reeks.”

Octavia panicked. Again.

“No!” She shouted. Her hoof slammed against her muzzle as soon as she spoke the word. “I-I’m terribly contagious, quarantine worthy! I’ll just, um, sleep it off!” Silence emanated from the door.

Silence was never good, not with Vinyl. Silence meant she was thinking and if she knew the mare like she did, then she knew those thoughts were swiftly venturing into inane ideas. Octavia turned away from the door, crawling onto her bed. It was soft, which was good, soft meant she could focus on something else.

Her hooves lifted the covers, attempting to pull them over herself. They caught on her extended wings, hanging off of them like decoration on a tree. Octavia scrunched her face in annoyance, biting back the urge to comment. Vinyl, despite her occupation, had excellent hearing.

The mare calmed herself, doing her utmost to calm the muscles along her back, parts of her body she didn’t have hours before. Slowly, it worked, and her new wings began to fall down against her sides. She felt a small amount of relief.

Octavia managed to pull the covers over her back now, letting the top sheet wrap around her head, leaving only her muzzle and large purple eyes peaking out from the cocoon she had created. A part of her hoped this was all some horribly well-constructed trick by Vinyl. The mare was known to pull a good prank, but this was far beyond what the mare had ever expected.

The silence continued to emanate from the door. It made Octavia wonder if Vinyl had headed her pleas, quieting her activities to let her sleep. Sleep, however, was something Octavia didn’t need. She needed answers and, quite unlike the dreams of a foal, she would find no reasoning for this change to her person in the recesses of her mind.

A discontented sigh left her lips, making her wings shiver and eyes droop. Octavia felt liquid stain the corners of her vision. She wasn’t sure if it was the sweat she had built up dripping down her mane or if she truly was moments away from crying. She didn’t have a moment to ponder the question.

Because a second later, the doors to her room burst open.

“Agh!” A startled cry rang from her throat at the sudden slamming of her door. Her newly acquired wings extended beneath the covers, pushing painfully against the sheet she clutched against her person. Her eyes stared at the entranceway to her room, wondering what in the name of Celestia had just happened.

She saw what she both feared and expected. One spunky, over-confident, head-strong, imagination crazy, alabaster unicorn- otherwise known as Vinyl Scratch.

“Don’t worry Tavi!” Her friend yelled needlessly into room, her signature purple shades dropped over her eyes. “I’m here to help… you…” Her words died off as the unicorn took in what she saw.

What she expected was her friend tied up to a chair with a group of thug ponies threatening her, perhaps trying to coerce money or information from her friend. It made so much more sense than Octavia being sick. Octavia, the mare who cared for her body and health like Vinyl did her record collection.

It made seeing her friend wrapped up in her blankets, sweating profusely and shivering slightly, second guess her judgement. That was, until she saw something else in the room aside from what Octavia had described to her.

If her friend really was sick, she could expect Octavia to be lying in bed, wrapped up in blankets, sweating, perhaps a little dizzy even, most likely fast asleep. What she did not expect was the extra lump beneath the sheets besides her friend. Vinyl turned her lips into a confident grin.

“Oh Octy, silly silly Octy,” the alabaster unicorn spoke in what the gray mare could only imagine was supposed to be a sultry tone. Now she wasn’t sure if she was shivering from fear of her changed body or fear of her roommate. Both seemed equally terrifying right now.

“V-Vinyl?” Octavia whimpered her friends name, pulling the sheet closer to her body and hiding more and more of herself. Her wings expanded against her wishes. It made her unicorn friend grin a little broader, and that made Octavia’s stomach more than a little heavier.

“Look Octy,” the DJ spoke easily as she ventured closer to her friend, walking beside the bed and staring into the mare’s eyes. Octavia could only pray the pillow above her head hid her horn even partially. She was extremely grateful Vinyl was not one for subtle details. “You should know by now how well I notice things.” Octavia could not speak of the irony she had just heard.

“What do… what could you mean?” She did her absolute best to sound tired and annoyed at the antics of the unicorn. One required some acting, the latter required no effort at all.

“Curled up in bed,” Vinyl mentioned as her hoof waved over the covered mare’s body. “Wrapped up tightly beneath the sheets, under the sheets.” Her grin became sinister beneath her signature glasses as she pointed at the lump behind Octavia. The mare felt her heart sink beneath her already deep gut. “Hiding a stallion in the covers.”

What?

“What?” Octavia had to speak what she thought. There was simply nothing else she could parse so long as that question hung in her mind. Vinyl shook her head lightly, as if her friend was trying dismiss an obvious clause.

“I’m not pretending that I measure you with my eyes or anything Tavi, but I’m pretty sure I would have noticed you gaining an extra, oh, sixty pounds on you.” Octavia still wasn’t sure how to take her friends comments. She decided to curl the blankets tighter against her body.

“I honestly do… no, I do not know what you are speaking about.” The statement made a brow raise from behind the unicorn’s glasses. Octavia buried herself deeper into the bed and covers, forcing her unpracticed wings to raise at her muscles’ flexions. She bit back a groan, settling for a whimper.

“C’mon Tavi,” Vinyl spoke in an almost teasing tone. Almost, though it still sounded like a knowing parent. Neither seemed particularly desirable to the gray mare right now. “I’ve worked enough late nights in enough shady joints to know a one-night stand when I see one.”

For that one horrible pungent moment, Octavia forgot she had wings or a horn to hide.

“I beg your pardon?” Now she saw her friend’s brows waggle, her jaw opening to reveal and open lipped grin. Her tongue ran across the edges of her mouth as is to emphasize some alien point Octavia couldn’t even begin to fathom. There was little she could believe today, apparently.

“I was born at night Octy, and it wasn’t just last night.” The cheeky grin on the unicorn’s face only grew broader as she reached over her friend. Octavia’s eyes widened at realization at what Vinyl was going to do. “Come on out big fella. I wanna meet the stallion that rocked-”

“Stop!” Octavia shouted at her friend. Vinyl backed off immediately, smile turned neutral at her friend’s quick outburst. The mare was quick to shame. “I’m… I-I am sorry Vinyl, but… now is not the time.” Her breathing was becoming thick again. Just like when she was checking her wings and horn before. This wasn’t good. Then again, it hadn’t been good all day.

“Relax Octy, I’m not judging.” The party pony responded. Her grin was light now, lacking any of the mirth she had moments before. “Seriously, do you how many times our neighbors complained about me when you’re at your recitals?” Octavia honestly didn’t want to imagine. “I just never thought you’d pick up a habit like... this from me.”

“I… I, um…” Octavia was stuck. On one hoof, she could continue to pester her friend to leave, something that would in all likelihood encourage the incorrigible unicorn to sit still and pester her. Or, she could swallow her pride, dive into shame, and play along with Vinyl’s game. “Now… Now really isn’t the time to... meet… him.” Octavia pushed her face into the mattress, digging it deeper beneath the pillow.

“Oh,” Vinyl nodded, leaning back as she spoke. “I get it. Don’t want any rumors flying around. I hear ya.” Octavia repressed the urge to call the unicorn for her mistake. Doing, so however, would only trade one horror for another.

“Thank you… Vinyl,” The mare spoke with what she hoped sounded like relief. Given the tightening she felt inside of herself, she doubted she did. “I appreciate your… discretion… in this manner” The unicorn waved her hoof as she leaned her head back. Though it was impossible to tell in the low light and through the shades, her eyes were likely closed.

“No problem Octy. We girls gotta look out for one another after all. Wouldn’t want any rumor mills spinning about your roll in the sack, huh?” Octavia found a new kind of heat rushing to her head. She dug herself deeper beneath her pillow, finally blocking her vision of the mare. To her growing horror, as she should have realized, Vinyl took it as an invitation to continue.

“But seriously, when you put everything back in order, I wanna hear about how it went.” Octavia could think of no words strong enough to express her desire for the unicorn to stop talking. “You room is way more messed up than it usually is, and seriously Octy, you’re gonna have to spill how you took your stallion friend there around the room.” The mare was rather sure hellfire was cooler than how she felt now.

“Heck, that’s not even to men..tion…” The unicorn’s words pitted and died off. Octavia, surprisingly enough to herself, didn’t like that. “Octavia, why is your pillow glowing?” The mare’s eyes opened beneath the cotton refuge of her bed and pillow.

Indeed, her pillow was glowing.

It was odd actually. It wasn’t glowing any majestic or rainbow-hued color like the mare was used to seeing around her. It was gray, like a dull ray of sun filtered through storm clouds. It wasn’t bright as day, but it definitely wasn’t anywhere close to black as night.

Plus it was ringing, a small harmonic sound that seemed to shake her inner eardrums. Octavia was still as a statue; shock could do that to anypony.

Unfortunately, when silence was all that greeted Vinyl Scratch, the mare decided to take action and beg for forgiveness later. The alabaster unicorn, reached her hooves forwards, grabbing the cotton pillow and dragging it backwards with one deft pull. It shattered the magic that was encompassing it, but what lay beneath was something that froze the mare still.

“O-Octy?” Vinyl stuttered, actually stuttered, speaking her friend’s name. Octavia was staring up at her friend as well, eyes wide and terrified. They were wet again, and this time the gray mare had now doubts it was from unshed tears.

“Vinyl I… I-I can explain.” She raised herself up as she spoke, adjusting herself until she was pressing on the bed with her hooves. That action alone allowed the sheet covering her to pull and fall off, revealing her expansive wings behind her. They were unfurrowed and extended to their largest, impressive length.

Vinyl was able to give only an ‘eep’ of shock before falling backwards to the floor. The thud that followed was enough to shake the unicorn from her stupor.

“Whoa!” Was the first word that came from her startled mind. More soon followed. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!” Vinyl’s glasses had fallen to the edge of her snout, leaving her wide eyes gazing at her suddenly completely-different friend.

Octavia wasn’t faring much better.

The reaction of her friend was enough to push over the edge. What little hope she still clung to that this was not reality was gone. The tears that had been hanging from the edge of her vision slowly began to drip downwards, mixing with the sweat of her coat. The reaction was enough to cause her throat to swell and lips to furrow. She let her head fall into her raised hooves.

Simply, she began to cry.

It was a meek and pitiful thing, that was what Octavia had always thought of crying. Letting one’s self be consumed by an emotion instead of acting to fix it. Now, however, she could think of no action nor even imaginative idea on how to correct what had happened.

Her friend of many years, her living partner, had seen her new self. Her hideously over-sized wings, her absurdly sharp horn, her miserable lies, and lastly, her unkempt coat. It was all simply too much for the poor mare.

Thankfully, despite all of the unicorn’s flaws, Vinyl was never a pony to leave a friend alone.

“Hey, c-c’mon Octy,” the unicorn spoke from outside the newly changed mare’s vision. “I’m sure this… I mean, this could be worse, right? Probably?” A forced chuckle followed the words. Octavia’s tears did little to lessen.

A sigh reached her folded ears now, followed quickly by hooves grabbing at her own. Octavia weakly tried to fight them off, but was too drained from her miserably-constructed day. Her frayed mind and fatigued body could do little but struggle against the hooves that pushed at her.

“Octavia,” Vinyl’s voice spoke to her, sternly at that. “Look at me.” That, the mare wouldn’t do. “Seriously, no joke, look at me.” Even though Octavia had no such desires, she felt her friend’s hooves reaching to her head, lifting her up until her gaze was forced to look forwards. Her only blessing was that the tears she was shedding were limiting her vision.

“Do you know how this happened?” Ah, questions. Better yet, questions said mare had been thinking about all day. She weakly shook her head in response. “Okay, alright. I…. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you just woke up like this, right?” Octavia nodded her head up and down now, down with more force. She really didn’t want to look at anything but her hooves.

She heard nothing for a time besides her owned barely-constrained sobs, coming out closer to chokes with her head raised and throat tight. Slowly she felt the hooves leave her head, and Octavia didn’t know what to think.

“Alright, I think I know what we have to do.” Yet again, Octavia wasn’t sure what to think.

She shut her lips, desperately trying to silence her slowly-building sobs. Her throat constricted further at the force. Deep breaths of air were sucked in through her nose, blinking to clear her bleary eyes. When her vision had returned, at least partially, she focused her gaze on her unicorn friend.

Vinyl had an uncharacteristically serious expression, lips pulled together and her head giving short nods. Her glasses had since slipped back over her eyes, but Octavia knew her friend well enough to imagine the furrowed brows and short gaze of the unicorn.

“You’re basically an alicorn now, for whatever reason.” At least her bluntness hadn’t changed. “So, the natural thing to do is to go ask another alicorn what’s happening.”

Before, when Octavia had just discovered her wings and horn, she was torn between shock and confusion. Now, with Vinyl’s suggestion, she was right in the middle of terror and disbelief.

Her wings, either acting on her impulse or their own, shook as they slowly retracted against her body. Her back hunched inwards, hiding what little of herself from the unicorn that she could. If only her horn was as flexible as the rest of her body.

“I’m serious Octy,” Vinyl spoke forcefully. Her hoof hit the ground to emphasize herself. “We need to ask an alicorn. Just about everything weird that ever happens is connected to them in some way. You remember Discord? Or the Crystal Empire? Heck, what about Tirek just a few weeks ago? They’ve had or found answers for just about all of that.” The unicorn did have a point. Octavia still didn’t have the courage to look at her.

“Look, if it means anything else, I’m sure they are the absolute last ponies who’ll be anything other than, well… a little shocked. I mean, Princess Twilight just went through this, right? She must know something.” Octavia didn’t know when Vinyl had transitioned from serious to pleading, but she couldn’t deny the small tinge of desperation in her friend’s voice. She despised it.

But as much as the mare thought against going out - or doing much else but hiding in her room - she could not deny Vinyl’s hard facts. There was certainly no doctor that could help her with this new… affliction may be an inappropriate word, but the princesses? Even if no answers were found, they would best know how to handle her situation.

“Here, I know, we’ll just… um…” Vinyl fumbled around in front of her, looking for something in her messy and disarrayed room. “We just have to disguise you ‘till we see the princesses. That shouldn’t be too hard, right? I mean, I’ve seen plenty of those high-browed ponies wearing coats longer than they are, a-and we just need a good hat for the horn!” Just as her voice had gone from stern to worried, now the unicorn moved seamlessly from unsure to excited. Octavia both envied and loathed the mare.

“C’mon, Octy,” Vinyl called her name lightly again. Octavia felt a hoof on her shoulder. “I’m not gonna say anything stupid… or at least I’ll try not to.” It was a little too late in the gray mare’s mind. “But this is seriously like the best idea we’ve had.” Technically it was the only idea Vinyl had had, and Octavia hadn’t conjured one, too absorbed with the new attachments to her body. But it was for that reason Octavia was silent.

Her body curled upon her bed, mind being pulled in three different directions, she had little to no idea on what to do. Her mind moved in subjects rapidly, asking herself how this had happened, then curiously wondering how it would affect her cello skills, only to end up on best to explain this to her parents. There was no order in her mind.

That was what scared her the most.

As a mare who had planned her entire life out, from her cello skills in her tender foalhood to her current climbing in the orchestra chairs, she had plotted out with her parents every step in her life. From here, she was supposed to move onto submitting her pieces for rhapsodies, perhaps allotting a maestro in an up-and-coming orchestra to tote her pieces.

That would lead her to develop a musical adoration beyond her skills in playing, but also in writing. From there, she would easily be able to assemble her own orchestra, dabbling into contemporary and more modern pieces, adapting new styles with old works. She would entertain a suitor or two, maybe have a foal that would carry on her legacy, but ending her days with a cumulative amount of fame that would give her name meaning in discussion.

Waking up with wings, a horn, and severely split mind fit no where into that plan.

A sharp gasp left her lips. Something light but thick, had been drawn over her. Meekly, she lifted her head, adjusting her long dark mane to see what was covering her. She wiped away a few stray tears with the effort.

Along her back, hanging over her wings, was a dark trench coat. It extended well past her tail and rear-end, most of it laying lazily on the bed she was still curled on. Her mouth opened to question Vinyl where it had come from, but that was before dark hat flopped over her head. A normally uncommon ‘eep’ came from her mouth as her sight was clouded not by tears, but by the brim of the tall hat.

Octavia’s hoof shook as she lifted it to the hat, lightly pushing against the brim to raise it. Her eyes met Vinyl’s who was smiling brightly in front of her, reassuring. Octavia was certain that her eyes were brimming proudly behind those dang glasses of hers. If it weren’t for the light-shows the unicorn constantly attended, she would have asked her friend to remove them permanently.

“See?” The alabaster mare questioned, no cover of her jubilation. “Can’t see a thing. Now you look just like a high-class mare with too much pride in herself. It’s like nothing’s changed.” Octavia felt her muzzle scrunch before she retorted.

“Hilarious, Vinyl,” she dryly returned. “Perhaps I… I should just wear a mask while I am adding accessories.” The unicorn’s grin didn’t go anywhere.

“Hey,” Vinyl spoke in a quitter tone, leaning in closer to the mare. Octavia found herself backing up at the sudden intrusion to her personal space. “Got you to respond to me, didn’t it?”

Indeed it did. It took the mare a whole moment to realize it.

Vinyl had, through her own quick and near-thoughtless actions, made her momentarily forget her stress. For that one blissful moment, she was her normal usual self, arguing with a unicorn that saw the world as a playground and rules as knee-high fences. Her friend had made the pain of the moment vanish.

That made Octavia grin.

“There’s the smile I was looking for.” Vinyl lightly tapped her hoof on the mare’s chin, pointing towards the shy smile on her friend’s face. “Does this mean, you’re at least willin’ to try?”

Octavia closed her eyes for a moment slightly longer than a blink. She looked over herself quickly, surveying the large coat on her back and tall hat on her head. Both were black as the night and trimmed with superfluous but nevertheless impressive accessories, the kind of clothing the cellist often saw her frequent patrons wearing.

Even splayed out over the bed, she could see how it would easily hide her newly acquired horn and wings. All she had to do was stay focused, keep calm, and pray to the princesses she was going to visit that nothing would go wrong.

Octavia took back that wish as soon as she made it. She knew how the fates liked to play.

“How many visitors are currently requesting me?” The clear, regal voice of a dark alicorn spoke. Her attention was upon a guard under her service, with wings of a bat and dark mane to boot. His eyes, golden like the stars, scanned a clipboard in his hooves. A stern expression was set over his features as he read. The alicorn’s own expression had almost mirrored the image of his. Hers, however, held far greater stature.

“Four, your highness,” he spoke with no lack of certainty. “Two have requested a time near the end of your court, but two others have appeared only moments ago saying only that they wish for your council as quickly as is convenient.” The alicorn nodded at her guard.

Her eyes shut slowly as she pondered the information. It was likely the ponies requesting a specific time were doing so to catch her at most exhausted state. It was far easier to convince a tired pony of investments or charities than it was a fully alert and prepared one. A thousand years of absence and she found no difference in the games of nobles.

The two sudden arrivals, however, were an interesting story. They clearly were not in need of physical aid, as such would be handled by the guards themselves. No, her council likely was sought for wisdom or sway in a decision. It was not a position she particularly enjoyed, but it was far preferred to the dark alicorn than deciding in which direction the bank was meant to roll.

“Very well,” she spoke again. “Please send in the first pony who came to me this day.”

“With respect Princess Luna, but the two ponies have arrived together. They seek you at the same time.” Ah, then it was likely a decision that was needed. Two ponies rarely coexisted at the same point all the time, and when the inevitable event of friction occurred, who better to solve the argument than a living embodiment of ‘divine intervention’? It took many years before the princess stopped giggling at the phrase. It was much more appropriate to simply call it a game of chance.

“So be it,” she commanded, her expression betraying nothing of her inner thoughts. “Send them in with haste.” The guard gave a low bow before trotting quickly to the door.

The princess was alone momentarily, thinking on the ponies that were coming to her. It was unlikely that they were making a crucial decision at this time, not in the wean hours of her night. No, it was far more likely they had a question about the workings of her sky, or perhaps the land in general, and they needed her guidance to solve it. They were menial matters, but a proper princess loyal to her ponies never betrayed their trust.

Her musings were silenced as the doors opened again and her guard returned. In tow with him were indeed two ponies, but the princess could only make out one of the two. The one that was visible had a coat as white as her sister’s and a mane more blue than the ocean. A rather striking pair of purple glasses sat on the bridge of her nose as well.

Rather than looking forwards towards Princess Luna, however, the white mare was glancing at her companion next to her. It was not common for ponies in arguments to offer such sympathetic glances. It made the dark alicorn recant her early guess of their needs.

The other pony she could not see, for the he or she was completely covered in clothing. A dark coat was drawn over the body with a top hat needlessly tall standing atop the head. Either mare or stallion, the princess could only assume now that something had occurred to the pony, short of physical harm, and they needed her help to deduce what. Luna only hoped she could.

“Presenting one Vinyl Scratch and Octavia Melody,” the guard introduced formally. The covered pony bowed deeply to her liege, clearly cultured and knowledgeable of tradition. The unicorn besides her, however, just waved. Waved, like it was a showboat. Luna wasn’t sure how to take it. She supposed it was better than stones or chants.

“Welcome to my court,” Princess Luna welcomed the two with an authoritative tone. “For what reason have you sought my presence today?” That was when she saw the covered pony shift.

She was nervous.

“Well, you see your majesty, it’s… not something we can exactly explain.” The white mare, assuming Vinyl Scratch by the brashness of her name, spoke. “We can explain it, but it would really just be a lot easier to show you.”

“Very well,” Princess Luna spoke back with no hesitation. “Then show me what you need.” Neither mare moved. A nervous chuckle came from Ms. Scratch once more.

“Yeah, ya see, when I said show you I meant, well…” Her hoof scratched her head, clearly uncomfortable with the request she was about to make. Luna knew she would not. “Alone.” No, definitely not.

“I’m afraid such a request is not permitted.” She answered truthfully. “With the frequent attempts upon my sister and I, the presence of our guards is a now required piece of entering our presence. Only if you have a reason deserving of discussion while possessing my trust can I possibly dismiss my loyal ponies.” Luna did not miss the puffing of her guards’ chests. She also did not miss the clear shaking of the covered pony.

“That’s the problem we’re having your royalness.” Vinyl spoke again. Luna kindly dismissed the incorrect word. “Octavia isn’t covered up because she’s cold. She’s… well… something really weird happened to her, and the last thing we need are ponies spreading rumors about her.”

“I can assure you no guards in this hall will speak of what occurs within it, not without my command.” Luna was not entertained by the idea of gossip. Evidently, neither was this Vinyl.

“Look, if you want loyalty, how about the fact that we’ve both been raised in Canterlot since we were born?” The princess’s eyes narrowed at Vinyl’s degrading decorum. By the sudden movement of Octavia’s hat, she assumed her friend felt the same. “Heck, I even played at your niece’s wedding!” Luna’s eyes lifted in recognition.

“Ah,” she spoke easily. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere. Your glasses are an unusual accessory.” The unicorn beamed and nodded cheekily at the statement. It reminded the princess of one of the Harmony Bearers, Rainbow Dash. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Her presences at a royal wedding, however, did merit some trust. If she truly had any plans to do harm, then would have been the time, especially in the wake of the invasion of changelings. A lot could happen, in a year, but the dark alicorn very much doubted the rude pony was able to change opinion, plot, and they go through with an attempt so weak as walking up to her in open court.

“Very well,” Luna spoke. She stood from her throne, unfurling her wings as she did so. It made her already-tall appearance seem dwarfing to the ponies. She needed to be. “Guards, leave us for a moment. I will send for you when this is done. Please wait by the doors.” There were no words of protest, only quick nods of acceptance, and then the clopping of hooves out of the room.

There was silence up until and past when the door shut in the hall, leaving the three alone. Luna let the absence of sound persist, letting the tension build. Tension made a nervous pony more honest, she found.

“Will you now show me what ails you?” Her voice was no warmer or colder than before, but clearly there was concern in her tone. It was a lesson the young Fluttershy had taught her. She remembered it well.

There was more fidgeting from the heavily clothed pony, but the Vinyl was seeing to it. The mare leant beneath the hat, doubtlessly speaking some encouraging words to lift her up. The top hat on the pony, now assumingly a mare by the name Octavia, bounced up and down lightly. She was agreeing with the words Vinyl was speaking.

Then the hat fell too far forwards, slipping off the mare’s head and falling to the floor. It hit with a dull hollow thud, rolling a short distance before stopping. Luna watched it briefly before looking at the mare.

A unicorn then, but the long horn adorned on her head it was easy to see. It was rather long for a normal mare of her size, but that was hardly something needing dire attention. The princess could not help but to also notice the flowing dark mane she had, reaching close the floor. By ratios, it was closer to the length of Luna’s own mane, though the dark alicorn’s flowed in a wind unfelt by other ponies.

“The concern is your horn then?” The princess questioned. “It is of significant length, but I hardly see any reason for concern.”

“Ye-NO!” Octavia quickly turned her meek acceptance into a loud denial. It made Luna blink. She was caught somewhere between curiosity and offense. “No, um, no your highness, your majesty. There’s… oh goddesses, there is more.” She didn’t sound too excited by her words.

“Then please, show me what ails you in full.” Luna raised her head as she spoke, preparing for what she assumed would be a magical show of destruction. That would be worthy of immediate concern, and it might properly justify the increased length in the mare’s horn. It was more common for ancient villains to awaken then for such an event to occur, but given the frequency of the former, the latter was bound to happen.

Octavia took in a deep breath, holding for a moment. Luna assumed she was focusing on a spell. She was half right. The gray mare was focusing, but not on a spell.

The coat along Octavia’s back flew upwards.

Her long elegantly crafted wings were exposed, fully extended.

Luna’s own wings drooped the floor in shock.

Silence ruled her hall instead of her, deafening all present with its thick strands. Luna’s vision would look no where else then upon the mare… no… the young alicorn before her. Her mangled coat of gray, her sharp horn of impressive length, her expansive wings of great shape, and her nervous, near-worried gaze.

Vinyl chortled besides her.

“Told ya we needed to keep this secret.”

Author's Note

Please Note:
Overture = the first part of a long piece of classical music such as an opera or a symphony.
Overture =/= the piece entire.

The Leitmotif

It had been a long night after the announcement, which brought a thousand and one questions for Octavia Melody. Princess Luna answered all that she could and promised answers for those that she could not. Octavia was patient. She could wait for the princess.

The mystery had become a little clearer, but in doing so showed far more problems than solutions, elusive as those solutions may be. Needless to say, the younger alicorn’s anxiety didn’t fare well.

Despite this, the Princess of the Night never went back on her promise, and she did all that she could for the now-clueless mare. Tea was served to calm the nerves, the pillows were laid out so that she could rest, and finally her magic was cast to give the cellist a peaceful dream’s journey. It was more than Octavia felt she deserved, but less than what Luna wanted to give.

She awoke before the sun broke, before Luna switched shifts with her sister. They spoke again, but only of assurances of what was to be done and the reclamation of promises that were already made. It did little for her mood, but Octavia still left Luna with heartfelt thanks, words that the Princess bowed at and welcomed her back at any time, day or night.

Octavia reached home just as the sun began to peak over the far horizon, its golden rays shooing away the gray blanket of the night. It was of little surprise that she found Vinyl home already, just as it was of little surprise to know that she had been beaten there by only minutes. The unicorn always did keep to the odd hours.

Octavia didn’t hesitate to tell her friend exactly what happened, from the moment she arrived home and cast her magic to when she had finished her duet with the Lunar Princess. Either from fatigue or shock, Vinyl remained open mouthed and staring at her the whole time. The only movement the unicorn would make was to repeatedly adjust her slipping glasses.

Finally, as Octavia’s tale was nearing completion, the sun had too finished its rise to the sky, officially ushering in the new day. A moment of silence passed as she finished, unease settling in before Vinyl finally spoke up.

She didn’t disappoint the cellist’s expectations.

“Seriously Octy? Seriously…” The unicorn asked the single word disbelievingly. Her glasses were sliding down the bridge of her nose, maroon eyes staring at her gray-coated friend with bent brows. “You ran off to the princess again? And over something as small as just a little magic dye?”

“The matter was far from as simple as you make it out to be,” her friend returned with a bit of an edge, pointing her hoof accusingly at the unicorn. It only made Vinyl give a snort as she flipped her head back, glasses falling back into place over her eyes. “In case you have forgotten; completely understandable given your inclination for alcohol, but I am far from used to these new additions.”

To emphasize her point, Octavia spread her wings, lifting her head as high as her neck would allow. The span of her wings dwarfed the now smaller unicorn. The horn atop of Octavia’s head even took the short appearance of a spear. Octavia wasn’t surprised to see the complete lack of intimidation in the unicorn’s features. She very much doubted much of anything would ever truly frighten the mare.

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” the unicorn dismissed the verbose alicorn with a wave of her hoof. “But what I was getting at was why you didn’t come to me for help.”

“I couldn’t very well go searching all of Canterlot for you, Vinyl,” Octavia returned to her unicorn friend. “You failed to mention where you were playing, and I was not about to trounce around the city at night.”

“Why not?” The unicorn taunted back, her doubtlessly gleaming eyes hidden by her dark shades. The cheeky grin she spoke with was enough. “S’not like a lot of ponies would have recognized you, what with that outfit you wear now.” The unicorn waved her hoof at the stand across from the room, standing in the corner with a heavy coat and hat upon it. Together they were plenty large enough to hide Octavia’s form.

“Any number of things could have happened!” Octavia shot back, her annoyance was due to her friend’s ever-aloof attitude. Vinyl had a similar feeling about Octavia’s consistently strict nature. “I could have been colt-handled by some rough stallion. I may have gotten lost searching the alleys your performances are usually held, or even worse, I could have been approached by some stranger a little more insistent!”

“You know, that doesn’t sound too bad,” Vinyl’s smile only seemed to grow as she spoke. How ironic that Octavia’s scowl was doing the same. “I mean, I’m sure you could have used a night. Hang your coat on the door and I’m sure it would have been all set.” The unicorn laughed as Octavia’s face lit, hot red.

“Vinyl!” The gray alicorn stomped her hoof as she spoke her friend’s name. It did nothing to lessen the smirk still plastered over the mare’s features. “How can you possibly suggest something like that?”

“Don’t worry,” the unicorn spoke back with a mischievous smirk. Octavia knew, she just knew, her friend was about to make another one of her oh-so-unique comments.

“We could have shared.”

That did it.

Quick as she could, Octavia let a slow trombone play a low D in her head, lighting her horn the familiar gray aura. As she did so, her magical grasp took hold of the small runner that was beneath the DJ’s hooves. She looked down curiously at the now-glowing rug. The unicorn had a bad habit of not knowing what was coming to her.

With a quick blow from the trombone, the runner was pulled out right from under Vinyl.

The unicorn had all the time to gasp before she landed flat on her back, left staring up at the ceiling of the apartment with an open mouth and doubtlessly shocked gaze. They were hidden well behind her dark purple lenses.

“Ow,” the words was muttered without any real pain, more surprise than anything else. It was plenty enough for Octavia, looking down at her friend with a confident and cool gaze.

“Serves you right,” the alicorn announced with a high and mighty tone, one embellished with the sole purpose of earning a rise from Vinyl. “Think twice next time before you suggest something so indecent.”

“Ta ha, yeah,” the unicorn let out as her head sat on the bare ground. “Probably should have put more than two cents into that thought, huh?” Octavia rolled her eyes. “So…” Vinyl lolled out as she raised herself to her haunches, pushing on the bridge of her lenses. “The princes says you’ve got a thing for… soul magic?”

“Hardly something so obscure as that,” Octavia returned, eyes upon the alabaster mare. “Luna explained it as my magic having an aptitude for matching the wavelengths of others. Because magic is something that is linked to ponies, it can be called a tool for studying others in a method that it is metaphorically akin to the soul.”

“Cool,” the other mare spoke with a bobbing head. “So, like, you copy their magic and you can see their memories then?” Octavia sighed. She had a half hope that if she sighed enough the unicorn might be a bit more bearable. It was a foal’s hope.

“Yes, that is it Vinyl,” Octavia didn’t even attempt to hide her exasperation in her voice. “At least as much as I can care to explain to you right now.” The cellist was familiar with the signs that her friend was descending into a tired state. Her over-playfulness was one of them.

“Relax Octy, I got more than you think.” The unicorn stood up to all fours, her tone notably more subdued. It was enough to actually keep the alicorn silent. “I just had ta give you a hard time, you know?”

Octavia would be the first pony to admit she knew Vinyl pushed her buttons intentionally. The smirk the unicorn put on whenever her roommate reacted was as clear a sign as a cloudless night that Vinyl enjoyed breaking the seemingly stern exterior of her friend.

“Look, I don’t know anything about this soul magic copying thing you got going on--” Octavia pouted her lips at Vinyl’s off hoof description of her magic. “But I can at least imagine it’s something like me or any other pony’s magic.” That turned Octavia’s pout into a questioning stare.

“What do you mean?” Vinyl simply shrugged her shoulders before answering.

“I mean, it sounds to me like this magic thing you did with the princess is how most ponies learn about their own skills.” Vinyl nodded her head at the question that was on the end of Octavia’s lips. “Yeah they got schools and all that stuff for the gifted and that crap, but most ponies just learn their talent by using it. We aren’t exactly taught that we have to use our magic a certain way. We just do.”

“You aren’t going to convince me that you were magically good at that infernal contraption you call an instrument.” It was a barb, an obvious one at that, but it got Vinyl to react exactly the way Octavia knew she would. She chuckled and grinned.

“Good to hear, cause the truth is I was just born great at it.” Octavia allowed herself a quick smirk and snort as Vinyl cracked up at her own joke.

Despite having just raised herself from the floor, Vinyl took the opportunity to turn and fall again. This time, however, she neatly landed on the sofa in the room, bouncing lightly on the cushions as she did.

“Nah, but seriously, music is a huge part of my magic,” she spoke as she absently waved her hooves in the air. It looked like she was trying to catch a fly with them. “I didn’t get taught how to think about it or what to do with it, I just used it. I just, sorta… listened to music a lot. Pretty much taught me all I needed to do to use magic. And now?”

Vinyl rolled her head backwards, staring up at Octavia who looked down at her. The unicorn had the cheekiest grins on her face.

“Now magic is as natural to me as playing on my sets.” Her hoof rose from the sofa, catching her lenses before they fell off of her upturned face. Vinyl repositioned her head back down, staring at the ceiling above in recollection. Octavia continued to gaze at her friend, the subtlest of smiles across her own gray features.

“Yeah, sure, you got your obvious differences,” the unicorn continued, speaking like she would after a long night’s gig, one of the few times she and Octavia would cross paths during working weekends. “But I learned my magic from listening to music. Ya know, like that Lyra mare, the one who moved to Ponyville.” Octavia shook her head at Vinyl, prompting the unicorn to stop for a second.

“Green unicorn, lyre cutie mark, sits up a lot?” Octavia continued to shake her head at her friend. The unicorn bit her lip for a moment. Obviously deep in thought. Her hooves clasped together with a clap as she remembered another detail. “The superstitious one! She had a thing for those humans?” Octavia, who was hoping to have a more cheerful ah-ha moment, found herself dreading the memories of said mare.

“Oh yes, I remember her now,” the gray alicorn replied, her wings wilting with her forced words. “The mare who had more taste for playing pranks than listening to opera.” Octavia shuddered at the memories that began to invade her, releasing themselves from their locked drawer.

“Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Vinyl protested. “I do that all the time, but you don’t get mad at me.” Octavia’s dry glare made the unicorn add an extra word to her statement. “Much.”

“You, at least, are mindful of the time and place before you making a horrid mess,” Octavia offered her friend the back-handed compliment. Vinyl took it with a smirk and small chuckle, as she always did. “Anyways, what about her?”

“Oh yeah, well, I know that she actually got her magic from reading up on stories as a filly,” Vinyl continued her story. “She did a lot of weird things with her magic, like making hands and stuff. And, okay you probably don’t know this yet, but it’s pretty hard to try and do things with magic you don’t know how to do.” Octavia’s return was a look dryer than a desert.

“No, really? I’m stunned,” Octavia’s tone matched her expression perfectly.. “It’s hard to do new things.” Humorously enough, Vinyl wasn’t entertained.

“I’m serious, Octy!” Vinyl more whined than retorted. “I mean, like, you’re great at the violin and all, right?” Octavia wasn’t sure her if her friend missed the sarcasm or was upset at the remark. Nevertheless, the question was still enough to push her exasperation.

“It is a cello and yes, humility aside, I am astute at using it.” Octavia ignored the way her feathers bristled, as though they were being brushed.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean you’re good at playing the violin, right?”

It took the gray alicorn a moment to realize what her friend meant. Names aside, Vinyl made an excellent point. Though Octavia herself was skilled at one stringed instrument, bow included, she would hardly consider herself anymore than a hobbyist when it came to any of the other stringed instruments in the family. She could hardly see herself playing the double bass, let alone the violin sitting perched like a bird on her shoulder.

“So, you’re saying that the way you learned your magic… limits what you can do with it?” Octavia wasn’t quite sure when she sat down, but it had to have been shortly after Vinyl unceremoniously placed herself on the sofa. It wasn’t an uncommon position for the two.

“Look, Octy, I’m not gonna pretend I’m any kind of genius at magic. I just know a few stories and saw some pretty cool lines between them. If you want more than that, you’re gonna have to bother one of the princesses again” Vinyl’s hooves fell from their up-reaching position, falling over her glasses and covering what little of the ceiling she found interesting. It only just occurred to Octavia that her friend was likely exhausted from last night’s performance.

“I’m pretty sure that Luna told you to go out and play with a bunch of ponies so you could learn more about your magic.” Vinyl spoke the words with a shocking amount of eloquence, her face still half covered by her legs. “I mean, that’s what I think at least. No idea why she didn’t just tell you straight out.” Octavia felt an unfamiliar part of her bristle at the words.

“I assure you, Vinyl, that Luna was very clear with her instructions and her assumptions.” Octavia defended the princess readily. “This… experience is as new to her as it is to you and me.”

“Yeah, you got a point there,” Vinyl lazed out. “Isn’t exactly an annual event or anything, alicorns sprouting up from normal ponies. Oh, but there was that Princess Cadance, like, a few years ago. Then Twilight, like, last year right?” Vinyl chuckled at the words. “Close to annual at least.”

“From what I have heard, their ascensions were planned in far more detail than my own.” It felt repugnant to admit the words in such a way. Octavia hoped Vinyl was too tired to notice the change. Thankfully the manner in which Vinyl rolled herself from the couch spoke volumes of her fatigue.

“As planned as growing a few extra limbs can be, at least.” Vinyl stretched like a cat, yawning deeply as she craned her back. Her legs extended till she stood on the tips of her hooves. Then, as if the carpet was pulled out again, her body relaxed until she nearly hit the floor.

“Speaking of plans,” Octavia ventured of her exhausted friend. “Would it be possible for us to-”

“Already started planning on it,” Vinyl interrupted the alicorn, not even meeting the gaze of her friend. Octavia didn’t take offence this time; she knew that few ponies retained their composure once fatigue set in, and Vinyl was no exception. “It’ll be fun, trying to find a song to play to.” Octavia struck a faint smile as she answered.

“I’m sure we’ll conjure up something. All I have to do is ensure you sign a waiver prohibiting damage of my tools.” Just as she anticipated, Vinyl chuckled once more.

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” She jokingly complained. “You can’t call a practice done until there’s some kind of property damage. I’ll settle for just snapping your bow, but hey, if we cause a meltdown in my circuit board, that’ll be a day.”

The two shared a laugh, an honest bit of joy that only true friends could share. Neither looking to the other for a sign. It was a comfortable relationship, to be able to be themselves while next to the other, no need for masks, coats, hats, or any manner of façade. Differences in tastes and upbringing were cast aside. Such trivial things meant little to the two.

“Well, alright then,” Vinyl sluggishly moved her legs as she spoke. “I’ll see tomorrow about getting one my old TP rooms set up. ‘M sure one of the guys owes me a favor. I’ll let you guess for what.” And just like that, the old Vinyl was back, cracking wise at Octavia’s proper demeanor with her own aloof one. The cellist turned up her nose at the comment, suppressing a smirk.

“You’re right only that we shouldn’t practice here.” Octavia admitted to her friend. “We do not need any more ponies complaining about the noise again.”

“Oh come on,” Vinyl whined, stomping her hooves like a pitiable foal. “That was only one time. Well, a one dozen times, but still one time. That makes sense, right?” Octavia decided to save her breath.

“I think that’s as fair a sign as any that you should rest up.” Octavia directed her friend as she stood from her chair, brushing beside her friend. Vinyl didn’t hesitate to lean on her, just as Octavia didn’t voice any complaints of taking on a portion of her weight. It was far from the first time the cellist had to drag along her DJ friend.

“Yeah, fine,” the unicorn replied without a wall of resistance. “Let’s just make it quick. We gotta big day tomorrow.” Octavia could feel Vinyl push against her a little harder, likely trying to earn another rise.

“We do, but it’s hard to say sleep can be rushed.” Octavia countered her friend’s statement with well-practiced ease. “You rest up and tomorrow we can venture to one of your… PTs as you so clearly put it.” A dry moment passed the two as Octavia continued to direct Vinyl towards her room. It wasn’t far away, not while they were already in their apartment.

“TPs,” Vinyl emphasized next to Octavia. She may as well have shouted at the alicorn, given their close proximity. “Not PTs. Seriously, TP sounds fun to say. PT sounds like some horrible disease. Sounds like it would suck to have PT. A TP is fun though, always is.”

“I’m suddenly having second thoughts about going to this TP of yours,” Octavia honestly spoke to her friend. It only made said friend giggle at the words. “Perhaps Luna has a better location to accommodate us. Surely she wouldn’t mind.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Vinyl dismissed. “They’re closed rooms, s’pposed to be so other people don’t rip us off.” Vinyl, despite her quickly spiraling rate of lethargy, was able to adjust her glasses with her limp limb. As she did, she made note of their location. “This is my stop.”

“Yes, time to go to bed.” Octavia noted as she pushed the door open. Vinyl took her weight off of Octavia, moving into the room without much aid. She stopped when she was just inside of her room, Octavia outside the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” Octavia questioned. “Do you need help getting to your bed?” There was no mockery or condemnation in the alicorn’s words. She acknowledged long ago that Vinyl worked hard at her job. She would not spite her friend some comfort.

“Nah, it’s not that,” the unicorn chuckled as she looked at the ground, shaking her head to gain a few extra seconds of talking to Octavia before she went to sleep. “It’s just… you haven’t called the princess anything but ‘Luna’ since we started talking about her. Not princess, not her majesty… just Luna.” Vinyl let her glasses slip, letting her maroon eyes stare at Octavia.

“Gotta think on that one.”

Vinyl shut the door, her curious statement left Octavia wondering herself.

Though Octavia had slept at the Canterlot Palace, she too was due for a proper nap in her own bed. Besides, she wasn’t about to trek anywhere around the city before Vinyl woke up, and the best way to pass the time in the early morning was the catch up on rest that one may have alluded.

When Octavia rose again, she noted that she was in her own bed this time, and not one of Luna’s masterfully-stitched throw pillows. The sun was higher in the sky, though not quite to its peak. Its rays were still, for the most part, blocked by the blinds shut in her room, blanketing the young alicorn’s home in darkness. It felt more comfortable that way.

A deep yawn came from her throat, picture complete as she stretched her legs and wings to their fullest. Octavia felt the relief as soreness was worked out of the muscles. She was still far from knowing how many muscles there were, only that they had strengthened since her lessons began.

Relatively awake, the cellist pushed the covers from her bed, plopping onto the ground with all four hooves. Her back arched with the motion, finishing up her bed-rising ritual. Wings folded back against her side, Octavia made for the door, lightly paying a string of the cello in her head as her magic twisted and opened it.

A Psycho Note took off in her head as she saw Vinyl in the kitchen.

There was nothing immediately surprising about the unicorn’s appearance. Her hair was the normal neon spiked design, her glasses were still sitting near-precariously on the bridge of her nose, her coat was the same alabaster white; everything was the same. Everything, except the fact that the unicorn had beaten her in waking up. As long as Octavia had known her, that never happened. Ever.

“Hey Tavi,” Vinyl replied in a voice only slightly above monotone. “Good night’s rest?” Octavia was stunned silent.

Her jaw worked uselessly, trying to figure out what, if anything to ask. She momentarily entertained the idea that Vinyl was pulling a prank on her, but dismissed it. It was too early for that, even for the ever-entertained DJ.

“Sorry, don’t mind me,” Vinyl went on to say, waving a hoof in front of her face. “Just thinking about something.” Now Octavia’s jaw was near the floor.

Vinyl was thinking, seriously thinking. Not just a joke idea, not mischievously churning out a plan, but actually waking up early and thinking. The cellist briefly debated checking the skies for raining fire. This was surely the first sign of the end days.

That was until the DJ started chuckling. Octavia’s eyes began to narrow.

“Hee hee ha!” Vinyl cheered with her signature grin on her lips. “I gotcha good with that one!” Octavia would be remiss to say that her friend was wrong.

“Well done,” the alicorn returned sardonically. “You robbed yourself of your precious sleep to give me a jump.” The simplification of Vinyl’s actions did nothing to halt her chuckling.

“Yeah,” the DJ admitted through her laughs. “But it was worth it to see that look on your face!” Octavia rolled her eyes just as her friend fell to the ground with mirth. It was odd, completely outside the norm, but Octavia felt her own smile grow at her friend’s antics.

The odd act actually brought a return to normalcy, at least normal for them.

“Seriously though,” Vinyl spoke up, her brief spot of laughter finished. “You might wanna pack up your stuff soon. We’re gonna wanna get to the TP soon, at least if you wanna keep at least semi normal hours. Up to you, we could wait a few.”

“No,” Octavia quickly dismissed with a raised hoof. “No, normal hours are fine. Let me secure my cello and we’ll be set.”

“Sweet,” the DJ returned, rising from the floor with her grin and glasses still in place. “Trust me, Octy. The TP I got in mind, it’s one cool place.”

“This is not a cool place, Vinyl.”

The words only earned a small snort and a shrug from the addressed unicorn.

In Octavia’s humblest of opinions, this TP of Vinyl’s was the most poorly maintained hobble of a studio the cellist had ever laid eyes on or even dreamed upon. It was more akin to buildings in some horror story than a musician’s studio.

“Hey, you can’t knock the digs till ya give ‘em a try.” The DJ loosely defended. Either she didn’t care about the place herself or she didn’t want to waste energy trying to change Octavia’s mind. Both were near impossible answers.

“Give it a try?” Octavia asked, raising her chest and adjusting the wings on her back, concealment foregone. “We passed by three overflowing dumpsters coming to this building, walked down so deep into the earth that we are likely near Tartarus, had to step over what I only can hope was an uneaten burrito and not a decaying animal, there are cracks throughout the performance windows, and that sofa looks like it would eat me if I sat on it!” Vinyl’s mirth continued to grow throughout the alicorn’s ramblings.

“Yeah,” The DJ spoke without argument. “But hey, we got a killer sound system here. The fridge has got enough water ta last us a couple of weeks, ya know, if you want to camp out. Plus, being so close to Tartarus,” Vinyl spoke with her ever so confident grin. “We can play as loud as we want and no pony ever complains.” A groan of annoyance vibrated through Octavia’s throat.

Either out of habit or enjoyment, Vinyl moved her way around the room with a grin on her features. Her horn lit up as she moved by the main station, positioned in front of a large window looking into the recording room. As her aura surrounded a few dials and switches, turning them in an order Octavia didn’t comprehend, the lights and gears dotting the room began to come to life.

“Don’t worry,” Vinyl spoke up, obviously thinking Octavia had assumed the worst, not entirely inaccurately. “I just gotta set up the system from here first. Ya know, making sure we have the recordings all set up and the power on. Can’t play a set without some speakers.”

“You can’t play without speakers,” Octavia corrected her friend quickly. “I on the other hoof am perfectly capable of doing such.” The gray alicorn lightly tapped the case at her side, indicating with a proud smile her stringed instrument.

It wasn’t the one the princess had commissioned for her; Octavia had refused to bring that here. In fact, she had thought ahead and decided to keep it from public eyes until the time was right. Such a gift would obviously attract mass attention, and she was in the mind to avoid that at the moment. Her current cello was perfectly capable of handling anything she threw at it.

“Well you’re a rarity then, Tavi,” Vinyl spoke up, yet another nickname serving much to the chagrin of said mare. “Sides, the whole point of this was to play together, wasn’t it? We’re gonna need the speakers on if you want me to join in.” Octavia sighed at her friend’s words. She did have a point.

“Very well,” she relented. “I will get set up in the room, then. Let me know when you are ready.” Without another word, Octavia made for the studio door, pushing it open with her hoof. She dragged her case behind her, as she had done on the way here and as she had done for all her performances thus far in her career. Wheels were such a wonderful invention.

To her surprise, and satisfaction, Octavia found the inside of the studio to be cleaner than the lounging area. It wasn’t perfect, not with the poor placement of the chairs, few soda stains, and what she believed to be an overflowing trash can, but it was better than the room outside. The lesser of two evils, she supposed.

A few cello strings in her mind, and Octavia pulled on what appeared to be the cleanest of the chairs. It slid across the floor, stopping near the center of the room, facing the large podium at the far end. She knew full and well that the large deck was Vinyl’s station. She could have guessed with the large number of nobs, vinyl tracks, and speakers connected to the device. If the two were to play, facing one another seemed to be the most sensible of positions.

By hoof, Octavia unlatched and pulled her cello from its case. It felt better to hold her instrument physically, how she had learned to play the large and elegant device. Feeling the strings beneath her hooves, letting the body rest upon hers, holding it gently with her wing…

Some moderations to her hold had to be made. She couldn’t pretend everything was as it was.

“Alright alright!” Vinyl’s voice called from above her. Octavia wasn’t sure when the unicorn had snuck in, but she was currently seated right where the alicorn expected, above in her metal booth. There was evidently a spinning chair up there, as the unicorn was twirling on something. “Look’s like it’s time for the Mega Duo to finally have a jam together.”

“We are practicing together, Vinyl,” Octavia clarified as she grabbed her bow, testing the weight to ensure it was the same. Naturally, it was, resting on the string as it belonged. “A jam session is where you waste the night partying to that noise you call music.”

“We get some sick partiers going like that!” Vinyl either argued or agreed, Octavia honestly couldn’t say. “Sides, who’s to say we aren’t gonna get into that? C’mon,” Vinyl challenged from her booth, moving her hoof in a taunting gesture. “Show me what ya got.” Octavia only snorted with a shake of her head, grinning beneath her long dark mane. It was on.

She began to pull the bow across her cello, beginning the Kalevi Hoof’s Solo IV. It was an evenly tempered piece, designed more to draw attention with volume than skill. It began as such, but it didn’t stay in such away. It wasn’t long until Octavia found herself pulling at the neck of her cello, moving the strings to bring different pitches to her notes, playing them in chords that were guaranteed to enrapture any audience.

“Boo!”

Clearly Vinyl was an oddity. Like Octavia needed any more assurance.

Her bow hissed as she drew it back from the cello, staring up at Vinyl with an expression caught somewhere between shock and distaste, though surprise found no place in her eyes. Oddly still, the unicorn was looking down at her with a similar one.

“What was that?” The DJ accused. “You’re playing the same exact thing I’ve heard you practice at home! That’s boring beyond torture!” Octavia was not amused.

However, instead of biting back, Octavia decided to heed her parents’ advice. Banter was well and good for the odd spat, but to truly end a conversation, you had to stun a mare silent. The best way to accomplish such was with her skill.

Octavia placed her bow back on the neck, evening her breathing before she began to play again. A bit faster than before, she began to play Gunnar Badger’s Suite Seul. An odd piece that was taught to her some time ago, it had little place in the home of the symphony. It was designed to play at concerts afar, to ponies that wanted to imagine worlds alien, not just distant, from their own.

It had chords that didn’t belong together, notes that hadn’t been played before, and a tempo that changed as often as the alicorn’s hooves. She knew this place well, as she did all songs she let dance across her cello’s strings. Evidently, Vinyl did too.

“STOP!” The DJ bellowed again. And again, the song ended with an angry hiss from the cords, as if in displeasure. Feeling much the same, Octavia stared up at Vinyl and contemplated whether or not she could launch a chair faster than the unicorn could react.

“If you intend to keep interrupting me, Vinyl Scratch,” the gray alicorn began carefully. “I can fully well return home and play alone.” That was not the response either mare wanted to say or hear. Through her disappointment, Vinyl responded as Octavia suspected she would: foalishly.

“C’mon Tavi!” Vinyl whined as she leaned back in her chair, more exasperated than spent so far. Octavia was faring little better. “We can’t do a jam together if you keep acting like a stick in the mud.”

Octavia felt her wings bristle.

“I beg your pardon?” In truth, she really didn’t. Her patience was running quite thin. “I am playing precisely as I have been instructed to since I first took up the bow. Playing like a ‘stick in the mud’, as you so eloquently put it, has taken me to first chair in the Canterlot Symphony and-”

“And it makes you sound and look like a freaking tree!” Vinyl shot back with an interruption. Octavia pouted her lips at the comment, eyes narrowing. Vinyl either didn’t see it or was as passive about it as she was almost everything else. “Seriously, how can you call yourself a musician if you can’t even handle a jam session?”

Vinyl was treading in dangerous waters. Octavia critically questioned whether she knew or cared.

“I am a proper musician, Vinyl. More so than you and that contraption you pass as an instrument.” Octavia pointed her hoof at the DJ Station the unicorn sat behind. The mare only responded by shaking her head back and forth, harder more determined with each swing. To Octavia, she looked more and more like a foal with each passing moment.

“You’re not a musician if you just keep doing as you’re told you’re whole life!” Vinyl swung herself up before the gray alicorn could retort. “We’ve been here for almost half an hour and all you’ve done is just play of a few notes I’ve heard you play a thousand times before!”

“That is how practice is done. We can’t all just press play on our ‘instruments’ and call it a day.” Vinyl put her head between her hooves, matting her damp neon-striped mane. Her glasses slipped a little, but a backwards swing of her head fixed that.

Octavia kept a strong wing bent around the body of her cello, her normal and well-practiced cello. She didn’t very much like the idea of Vinyl keeping to her promise and breaking one thing before the day’s end. She half hoped the unicorn’s sanity counted.

The alicorn jumped as Vinyl slammed her hooves down on the table.

“This,” she began, sounding far less like the Vinyl Octavia was used to. “Is not. A practice. Session.” She took deep breaths between her words, as if trying to control some pent up rage. Octavia honestly couldn’t imagine where it was coming from. Maybe her words were more barbed than she realized.

“Vinyl, I-” The cellist made to apologize, but the unicorn wasn’t finished.

“This. Is. A. JAM! Session!” Her hooves slammed down again. Octavia was sure now the metal box Vinyl sat behind was reinforced in some way. That, or the unicorn had more bark than bite. She suddenly hoped for the latter. “Do you have any idea what that means?” She nearly seethed the words. Octavia straightened herself in her chair before answering.

“A jam session is-” She was interrupted once more.

“It’s where you lose yourself, you let go, you play whatever gets into your head and you keep playing it till your legs are tired or your mind is blank, whichever comes first!” The words sounded like Vinyl, but the emotion behind them was so much more than Octavia had heard her friend say before.

“You,” Vinyl put an accusing hoof towards Octavia. “Just keep playing the same thing over and over again! It’s so crazy that it’s stupid!” Any patience that the cellist had was quickly dissipating beneath the comments obviously meant more for insult than tease.

“Repetition is the quickest path to mastering a skill.” Octavia quoted many of her past teachers as she spoke those words, her parents included. “And what would you suggest? Just slam on my strings until they break?”

“If that’s what it takes, then yes!” Vinyl shot back with no hesitation. She must have been awfully thankful to have those glasses. All Octavia could see was the snarl of her friend’s lips. “Let loose! Go crazy! Live a little! I mean, I’ve recorded every boring note you’ve played already!”

To emphasize her point, Vinyl hit some series of buttons outside of Octavia’s view. Instantly, the speakers around her came to life, playing back every note that Octavia had wrung from her cello. The crispness of the notes emanated flawlessly from the speakers, taking every small pitch and ring that Octavia had produced; strings, bow, and all. It made the hairs along her coat shiver, adoring the sound. Then, just as quickly, it died out, doubtlessly at the unicorn’s command.

“See?!” Vinyl questioned harshly. “I just played exactly the same thing you did! Does that mean I’m a master violin player?” The unicorn having just insulted the alicorn in three different ways all in a few sentences, credit had to be given for the effort.

“You know no more of how to play the cello than you do exercise common sense.” Octavia coldly retorted. She couldn’t give into such childish whining, though this was degrees higher than what the unicorn usually pelted her with. Vinyl didn’t take the bait she set, however.

“Says who?” The unicorn spoke back. “I just gotta mix with these a bit and I’ll make a whole new song!” Vinyl was already moving across her table as she began to speak, twisting dials and moving tracks that Octavia could see. All the alicorn could tell was that Vinyl was very much in her element, but in the worst of ways.

“You keep playing the same thing all the time! I’ve never heard you play something some pony hasn’t told you to!” Vinyl taunted as she continued to work, the magic in her horn grabbing at dials and switches still beyond the alicorn’s sight. She was must have been working hard. It was the only reason Octavia didn’t pack her bow, cello, and leave right out the door. She was enraptured, unease creeping in.

“Watch this, Ms. Prim and Proper,” Vinyl taunted with the new barb. “Give me a few notes, a few minutes, and I got a whole new song going!” The unicorn lifted and slammed her hoof down.

Instantly the speakers began to play again.

It was unlike anything Octavia had heard before.

BEGIN

The pace was quick, filled with a beating sound that set the tempo. Octavia could hear the tell-tale sound of plucking strings, a quick trick she had performed to test the tune of the strings without touching her bow. She wasn’t even aware Vinyl had started recording then. She was well aware of Vinyl’s quickly deepening grin..

Then, instantly, Octavia heard her cello begin to play.

It was quick in pace, far quicker than anything she had played thus far. It took the dark alicorn a moment to realize that Vinyl hadn’t just taken pieces of her playing, but had altered it. She heard a note being played that she hadn’t struck near another others, made far faster than what she had previously. Then again, a quick chord rung out, one that she had played far before any of the individual notes.

The grip on Octavia’s cello tightened as the music continued to play. The music was horrendous, it was a mockery. It spat on her skill, and disgraced her talent. It did all of those things because, against any of the better judgment the mare might have had, it was something she loathed to admit.

It was good.

“C’mon Octy!” Vinyl taunted her friend from atop her metal stand, fierceness replaced by challenge. “Show some of that talent you keep bragging about! You gotta show your teeth if ya want me to believe you got any bite!” Octavia couldn’t suppress the snarl that took hold across her face.

The unicorn could taunt her upbringing, poke and tease at her etiquette, and even call her out for playing tunes from the past while thinking too far into the future. But when she started to mock her music, to pretend to have any level of skill in her cello, that was crossing the line.

Octavia was indeed livid, but she had always been taught one very important lesson by her parents, one that ruled above all else. It was not to remained focused, or disciplined, or even honest to one’s self, though all were important lessons. No, it was an unspoken law of life.

The best way to beat a pony was to prove them wrong.

With a purpose far outside practice or discipline, Octavia lifted the bow to her cello and began to play.

She played at a pace far faster than she had before, vibrating her bow across a single string of the cello in her hoof and wing. Subtle alterations were made to the pitch, rising the tension as she moved her hoof up and down the neck of her instrument.

“Yeah!” She heard Viny cheer outside of her hearing, outside of her focus. “That’s a jam! Keep it up!” Octavia had no intentions to stop.

She felt her breathing deepen and brow crease as she kept up her pace, playing notes she knew Vinyl had not recorded, chords she would have a difficult time placing. Octavia was a cellist, a master at that. She knew her instrument better than any mare or stallion, even royalty. It didn’t matter how well Vinyl was able to move around a few notes she played. She would never allow the unicorn to make a better song off of old materials.

Though that didn’t stop Vinyl from trying.

She heard the cello she was competing with, her cello, increase in volume, rising higher than the drum beats that made the pace. Octavia raised hers to match. She pushed until the strings strained, pulling across them strong enough to sweat.

Her wings fanned out, desperate for air. Her horn was lighting up, warming the top of her head.

The music was all Octavia focused on.

Suddenly, like an unseen wind, her cello vanished. Not the cello in her hooves and not the music she played, but the one emanating from Vinyl’s speakers. Somewhere in the song, the unicorn had cut out what she was playing, either impressed by Octavia’s already masterful skill or planning something else. A distant part of Octavia suspected the latter, but she did nothing to act on it. She continued to play her cello in a way she never had before.

The drums kept playing, carrying the beat as she, bouncing through the air to mark the measures. She was nearly alone, being watched only by her friend above, controlling only the other friend in her hooves. She knew it would not last.

Octavia’s shadow of a suspicion turned out to be right, however.

A deep noise, long and violent, blasted from the speakers. It entered with a boom, leaving with a hiss. It dragged through the air, churning the strings of her cello and slowing what was an already quick song.

In Octavia’s opinion, as she continued to play her cello at a rabbit’s pace, it fit perfectly.

It came again, in a group of three, running through like a monster’s growl. It clawed at Octavia’s sweat stained coat, demanding her attention. She gave it none. All of her focus was on the cello in her hooves. She suspected it was the same for Vinyl and her desk.

Octavia’s mind began to wander as her hooves continued to run, the focus giving way to instinct, a level of focus so deep she could hardly touch it. Her bow continued to beat and pull across the abused strings as her mind began to think of things she had never imagined before.

The cellist thought of what it would be like to play that contraption Vinyl could hardly even name, a station more than a tool. She could see herself adding tracks from other instruments into the mix.

What would it be like to add the bellowing of a pipe organ into the background of the performance, carrying the beat and rhythm like a yacht upon the ocean? Or if they added a bass into the mix, strumming along the cello in an almost symbiotic manner?

Octavia, despite her best efforts, felt herself grinning at the idea. It grew broader as the music rang on, and as the ideas kept appearing.

With enough flash, she could set up stage lights, bring the focus on instruments introduced at different points in the song. Make this mash up of a song complete with some flash. The crowd would go nuts over it. They would love it. She would love it!

She could be sitting in the center, surrounded by the ponies dancing to the music, by the electric chords, the strung guitar, but most importantly, her singing violin. She would be playing it just as fast as she was now, pulling the bow so fast, pegasi would be envious.

It would be perfect. Octavia could see every detail of it. She tilted her glasses just right, adjusted the lighting of the performance around her, it would look like she was playing every instrument simultaneously. A nearly mad grin took over the gray alicorn as she continued to paint the mental picture.

“Yeah!” Vinyl cheered above her, screaming with joy over the sound of her cello and the unicorn’s playback recordings. “Now we’re getting somewhere!” Octavia couldn’t agree more.

The session didn’t have to end at one song, or even one stage. If she were to bring Luna with her, show the Princess of the Night what she was capable of, they could be playing sets across Equestria with every pony’s enraptured attention. She could even mix up some tapes of their performances, include extended versions of songs that no pony had ever heard, add in extra instruments that would have never been thought possible.

They could put in a trombone, a tuba, a xylophone! Anything could work! With the right amount of practice, with the right touch of magic, Octavia was sure she and Vinyl could play across the land without any pony ever dreaming of matching them.

Her music was getting louder, her bow nearly beating at the strings without respite as the song continued. But she couldn’t stop, she wouldn’t let herself stop, not while Vinyl kept trying to beat her. Octavia could hear it, her carefully trained and tuned ears perked as sweat continued to bead and pour from beneath her coat. The music from the speakers was getting louder, faster, and maybe even a touch better. Octavia could do even better, surely.

So she played like nothing the Symphony would ever allow.

The electric strings Vinyl continued to roar through her speakers grew in number and volume, playing under, not above, Octavia’s chords. She tried again and again to overtake the alicorn’s cello. Adjusting the pitch, moving the placement, adding in number, but she never succeeded in overtaking her friend.

Vinyl was good, doubtlessly the best at her craft, at least in Octavia’s mind. It was something agreed upon but forever unspoken. Octavia herself, however, was more than just the best at the cello.

She was a master.

Vinyl knew how to alter and change what was already heard. Octavia was proving, here and now, she could make something new, though far from effortlessly. The sweat and panting breaths that began to push against her throat said that the effort was very much involved. But then again, she could never be a master without effort. There was simply no such thing.

She slid the strings with her bow one last time, reverberating with a deep bellow. Vinyl matched her as well, her electric chords echoing through the room as she let the speakers slow die down.

The song was finished.

END

Octavia collapsed into her chair.

Her chest moved up and down with almost comical size, her breaths deep and forceful, desiring every ounce of oxygen the air had to offer. Sweat was literally dripping from the edges of her wings, currently unfurrowed and laying limply at her sides. Her mane was likely beyond repair, split at the ends, curled at the base, and knotted in every which way along their lengths. She didn’t have the energy, or heart, to see the condition of her cello.

It was likely more of a mess than she was. She beat the strings without remorse and dragged her bow like it was a garden hoe across the dirt. She could feel, truly feel, the once fine and taut hairs inside the bow now frayed and broken. Octavia was going to have to purchase a new one, several if she kept up this practice.

“Oh yeah!” Octavia twisted her neck, allowing her head to lull in the direction of the cheer.

She saw Vinyl, dancing on top of her set, clearly far from expended in energy. Octavia was beginning to understand why her friend kept to a low cut mane and tail. Harder to drip in sweat when fur is shortened.

But she also saw magic in the air.

It was, again, similar to her experience with Luna. Her magic was floating through the air, hoving without a place to land. Unlike Luna, however, these were not stars that simply sat without a sky.

They were arcs of lightning, left in the air without a place to land, sitting through the air and moving like fish in water. There were easily dozens of them, spread out across the room like the electricity had blown and was deciding where to go. With the noise she and Vinyl had created, it was a likely possibility.

They were arcing with one another, jumping from one trail of electricity to the other, but without ever reaching the ceiling, the walls, or even the ground beneath them.

Then, just as with the lights in Luna’s room, they began to fade.

Softly at first, like walking a tunnel with a solitary light at the end, the jagged lightning began to fade, dissipating into the air. There was likely some science behind it, some mechanism that Octavia should know, but in the moment of, she didn’t. Right now, she could only watch as the magic she had created with Vinyl faded into nothing.

It didn’t take long before the room was empty again, save the worn gray alicorn and her DJ friend. Speaking of, said DJ finally took the time to make herself known.

“Now that!” The unicorn cheered again, pointing her hoof at Octavia. The smirk under her shades was unavoidable in the alicorn’s eyes. “That was a jam session!”

Octavia’s head fell forward. She only could wish she would pass out.

“Whoa!” Vinyl whooped out as she drank another bottle of water. “That’s what the doctor ordered! Oh colt!” The cheerful cackle that came from the unicorn was matched by a quick swipe of her head, sending droplets of sweat across the room.

While the unicorn swished and swayed with energy, Octavia found herself lying on a couch in one of the most unrefined positions she had ever let herself take. Her wings were sprawled out, extended to let every ounce of cool air touch her. Her head was lolled over one leg rest and her hind legs raised on the other. Her mouth was lolled open, panting, and her coat was matted with sweat - drenched enough to be confused for an evening swim.

“Now that, Tavi,” Vinyl spoke as she pointed her hoof at her friend, cheeky grin complete and all. “Was a Jam session.” Octavia rolled her eyes, the unicorn having repeated that several times now, each looking more satisfied than the last. “Seriously, felt like we were getting ready to rock the roof right off, maybe even take orbit!”

“I… hardly think…we played… that close…” The words were a mess to the alicorn’s own mind, but her fatigue was weighing down on her far more than her conversation with her roommate. She could only hear because her ears had fallen open, head lain back the way it was.

“Heh, who’re you kidding?” The unicorn asked, plopping herself down on a beanbag in the corner of the room. Octavia heard Vinyl take several deep gulps of another bottle of water. It was likely the second the unicorn had consumed. “We could sell that song and retire! Seriously!”

Octavia listened to her friend laugh at the idea, either out of mockery or enjoyment. She didn’t care which one it was, but it still felt… good, to hear Vinyl so excited from something that Octavia did.

But the ideas she had seen wouldn’t leave her mind.

She knew that they weren’t her own, much like the memories of Princess Luna’s were not hers. She remembered every detail of the ideas, of the thoughts and musings, but she knew not one of them was hers. For starters, Octavia never would have forgotten the name of her own instrument. It was more likely a parent would forget they had a child.

No, she knew now that they were Vinyl’s ideas, her special little projects she was thinking of in the middle of their ‘jam session’. It made far more sense for the unicorn to imagine different monstrosities joining their small session that Octavia, the mare content to play solo than in a group.

Still though, there was a question the tired alicorn had to ask.

“Vinyl,” Octavia let out between pants. She heard the DJ dislodge the water bottle from her lips, directing her attention to the cellist. “Earlier… in the room… those things you said… boring… did you… did you mean it?”

“Oh,” Vinyl let out in a far more subdued tone than just earlier. “Yeah, about that, that was my bad.” It was an admission of guilt, but Octavia wasn’t sure it was an apology. “I mean, I’m sorry about it, I really am, I just figured that was the best way to get you fired up.” It was closer, but still not quite there.

“What… do you…” Thankfully, the question was obvious to the unicorn. Then again, it would have been obvious to a foal.

“Remember when I was thinking this morning?” Octavia nodded her head at the unicorn’s words. “Well, I just remembered how I couldn’t get ya to do anything new when we first met. I mean, you turned your nose up at my grilled cheese!” If she had the energy, Octavia might have blushed at the reminder. As it was now, she was already too heated to allow any extra circulation to her face.

“You... called me… a brat.” Vinyl chuckled at the memory, fondly recalling what Octavia remembered as her first moment of annoyance with the unicorn. Possibly millions more followed.

“Yeah, but it worked.” The DJ pointed out. “You had grilled cheese after that.” She snickered following her words, like it was some great victory to her. Compared to the usual arguments that Octavia came out on top of, it very likely was.

“Was there a… point to make…” Vinyl nodded her head as she cleared her throat, preparing for a story. Knowing the unicorn as well as she did, Octavia prepared herself for imagining the important details that would be left out.

“See, most of the newbies around here keep thinking the same way you do.” Vinyl raised her free hoof into the air and waved it in a slow circle as she drooled out a list. “Practice hard, practice long, keep practicing, don’t change, don’t be different, yada, blady, dah!” Her hoof fell as she finished.

“Me and the guys couldn’t talk them out of it. They just kept trying to copy us so much that it started to feel like drinking bad cider. Bad taste and bad date.” Octavia managed a snort from her lain position, half-enjoying the idea of seeing Vinyl regretting a drink. “You have no idea how annoying it is to hear the same remix a hundred times over. Seriously, changing pitch does not change the jam.” Octavia kept her words to herself.

“Finally, I snapped at one of them, started going off and stuff. Didn’t feel good after that, but I guess it was like a kick to the head for the kid.” Octavia felt one of her brows raise. It was likely all she could do now.

“What… does that mean?” Vinyl’s grin started to broaden at her own recollection.

“Means that the next day, the kid came back with some new stuff, promised that it would impress.” Vinyl shrugged as she said the words. “Be honest, I just gave him the chance cause I still felt bad about what I said to him. I know how hard it can be ta scratch out your first tune.” Octavia remembered from her little ‘jam’ session how hard it was for Vinyl.

“But the second that kid put the needles on the record, I was impressed.” Vinyl was nodding at her memory, glasses slipping under the force and her sweat slick coat. “Wasn’t anything groundbreaking, but it was at least different from what I’d done that far. It was good enough ta get me to listen to the whole thing.”

“Sounds like… he impressed you.” Vinyl didn’t argue the words.

“Yup,” she spoke with that cheeky grin of hers. “Good enough that we got him an opening gig.” Vinyl chuckled lightly, clearly remembering something else. “I don’t think the name would be much to ya, but the kid’s got his own thing going right now, over in Fillydelphia. Not top of the line or anything, but hey, he’s got a name at least.” Octavia could understand the importance of that.

“Good… for him…” She was weak in her voice, body, all over actually, but she did honestly mean her words. Vinyl could tell that much.

“Yeah, but hey, me and the guys got something out of it, too. Probably not something we can brag about though.” Octavia turned her head to look at the unicorn, feeling her coat mat as she turned.

“What… is that?” She watched one of the unicorn’s brows rise above her dark purple lenses.

“Seriously? You haven’t figured it out yet?” Octavia kept her mouth still, not bothering to use the energy to offer Vinyl an answer. “We just had to be hard on the newbies, that’s all. No more pats on the back and story time, we just started making sure we got the effort instead of waiting for it. Can’t wait the world away.”

“That sounds… a bit cruel,” Octavia noted, the same as she noticed her breathing was returning to her. Vinyl shook her head at the comment.

“We’re not mean about it. Well… we’re not ‘cruel’ about it.” Octavia almost heard the light bulb go off in the unicorn’s head. “It’s no worse than what you told me your parents do, making you sit straight and all, being prime, proper, and all that junk. Difference is we just kinda ask for the opposite. It doesn’t matter how you look doing it as long as it sounds great in the end.”

To Octavia, the words Vinyl spoke sounded akin to saying the water was wet because it had to be, otherwise you wouldn’t jump in an ocean. They made sense, but only in the most foalish of ways.

Still, she was hardly in a position to argue, figuratively and literally. Octavia had greatly enjoyed the session she shared with Vinyl, and it was clear the other mare had done the same. Her questionable methods aside, she had learned more about her magic, if only by playing it with a friend of more years than any of her other acquaintances.

The question was now, what happened next? Did she continue to do this with Vinyl, play the piano duet with Luna, or perhaps have to venture out and find another pony to share something with? A slow sigh passed Octavia’s lips. She wasn’t sure.

“Hey, you still need to do this… soul music thing some more, right?” Octavia felt her lips crease into a small smile before she responded.

“Not the finest term I’ve heard for it, but I do suppose it will work, yes,” Vinyl leaned over towards the still lain alicorn, her grin mischievous in every way Octavia had ever seen before.

“Well, I got some friends I’m sure you can play with.” Octavia raised her brows at the suggestion. Vinyl clearly saw it. “No, no, not like that!” The unicorn waved her hoofs. “I mean they’re some awesome ponies, got talent in all the right areas.” An exasperated sigh left the alabaster mare’s lips as a small chuckle left Octavia’s.

“I understand,” the alicorn clarified. “I truly do, and I appreciate it, but I am not confident that I wish to do… this again so soon.” Octavia waved her hoof in the air weakly. Her breathing may have normalized, but she still needed a hard nap before her muscles were ready to move again.

“Whoa! No! No, no, no, no,” Vinyl yelled and let out quickly, slightly startling the tired alicorn. It still amazed her Vinyl was able to speak so clearly and move so easily. Perhaps it was one an adaptation trait the long nights had given her. “No way Octy. You just got broken into this. If you wanna do this more, you’re gonna have ta get used to some later hours. No rifftrack around that.” Octavia wasn’t expecting the slight pang of disappoint that brought. Vinyl may have been speaking honestly before when she said these sessions were like an addiction to her.

“Then… what do you suggest?” Octavia was still wary, though less so, of the unicorn’s pert grin.

“I met some cool ponies awhile back, both music players,” Vinyl began as she leaned back in her bean bag. “One of them I know is in Fillydelphia. Only started talking to her cause I swore she was you for the first few minutes I stared at her.”

“I will voice later my concern that you would stare for so long.” The response only got Vinyl to laugh before she continued.

“No, but seriously, ‘cept for the color and threads, she looked just like you, mane, Cutie Mark, and all.” That earned a slight stare from Octavia.

“Really?” she questioned. “Cutie Mark as well?” Vinyl nodded, glad to have finally grabbed the alicorn’s attention on the matter.

“Yup, she even plays a wooden instrument like you do.” Octavia was beginning to worry she had a long-lost twin her parents never mentioned to her. “It was smaller though, sat on her shoulder.” The gray alicorn almost whipped her hoof at Vinyl.

“That” she spoke with emphasis. “Is a violin.” Vinyl’s grin only showed more teeth at what Octavia had said.

“Yeah, it was, but colt she played it a lot differently than you do.” Octavia could only hope the mare didn’t still think the stringed instrument in the room was a violin. Honestly, it was easily four times the size. “I mean, she would dance with the thing while she played it, moved it so fast I thought she was gonna light it on fire! Almost like what you just did earlier.” The mare laughed at the shortly stored memory. Octavia, however, was having honest curiosities about the mare.

“What is her name, the violinist?” Vinyl shook her head to get back on track, clearly trying her best for Octavia. That mattered, more than just a little.

“Fiddle Sticks,” the unicorn spoke with no hesitation. “I remember cause I had to laugh at her name, kept thinking of the number of ways ponies would curse and call her at the same time.” As if to emphasise her point, she chuckled into her hoof. Octavia only shook her head, far more than used to her friend’s foalish nature.

“Who was the other pony? You said there was more than one.” Vinyl blinked at Octavia’s words, confused for a moment, but then she nodded her head, as if recalling where she had dropped the information in her skull. It must have been a long walk between all that empty space.

“Yeah, sorry forgot his name for a moment,” Vinyl apologized before she continued. “His name was Drifter.” Octavia felt her eyes widen. She knew that name.

She had met him in Ponyville, in Princess Twilight’s castle, following her break through with her magic usage. But no, Octavia shook her head, it wasn’t likely to be him.

“He was a pegasus from Cloudsdale, last I heard he had to leave his job because of some accident in the clouds.” Okay, that made it a bit more convincing, Octavia figured.. But still, she needed had to confirm it. At best, she could at least surprise her friend a little.

“Did he have a blue coat?” She saw Vinyl’s grin vanish, replaced only by a stunned shock expression.

Guess it really was a small world.

“Yeah! He did! How did you know that?” Octavia found herself chuckling at all the likelihood. She turned over, making her head comfortable on the foreleg rest of the sofa again, enjoying the softness of the padding.

“I had an exchange with him briefly outside of Princess Twilight’s home. It was just after you had left, actually.” Vinyl lowered her head until her eyes peaked out from above her equally colored maroon glasses.

“Seriously?” She asked in disbelief. “I missed my old rock buddy by a couple of minutes?”

“Seconds, probably,” Octavia humorously corrected. “He was waiting when I ran into him.” The gray alicorn allowed herself to giggle as she watched Vinyl childishly complain about the missed encounter, falling back into the bean bag with a slow and dull thwomp.

“Aw, that’s such a let down,” Vinyl whined out. “He’s such a sick guitarist. I mean, he practically had a second job just playing that thing for fun! People would throw him bits, thinking he was a street performer or something. Guess that’s his thing now though.” Not the most pleasant way to end a thought, but a valid thought nonetheless, to make one’s hobby a job when the job falls through.

“A guitarist?” Octavia mused. “Another mockery of modern music?” It was an intentional barb, a light one at that. The alicorn was in little position to do much else. She was pleasantly surprised to see Vinyl eye’s narrow in a comically serious manner.

“Hey now, Rock and Roll is almost as awesome as some deep bass techno. Almost,” She emphasized the word, almost too defensively. Octavia let that one slide. “Sides, how cool would it be to hear a mashed track of his guitar and your cello. That’s something a mare could get down and dance to.” Vinyl shook her water for emphasis, before gorging and drinking the rest in a little more than a single gulp.

“A violinist or a guitarist,” Octavia mused lightly. “How skilled is Drifter with his guitar? I wasn’t aware he used an instrument when we met.” That seemed to perk Vinyl up a bit.

“Oh, he can play alright,” She let out with a small bark of laughter. “Dude can play those notes faster than most ponies can hear them, but still make them sound good. Seriously, it’s like every song with that colt is a serenade or something. It’s freaking weird.” Octavia was curious now. There was only the obvious problem.

“So, I can chose to either trust the violinist I’ve never met, but I resemble to a ‘tee’, or the stallion I’ve had a passing acquaintance with.”

It wasn’t necessarily difficult, but it certainly wasn’t an easy choice. Neither side would likely feel any disappointment by her decision, provided no pony would tell them of it, but it still was not a choice to so flippantly make. Vinyl seemed to understand that.

“Give me a day and I can get a hold of either of them. Question is,” Vinyl leaned down, comically lowering her glasses until they rested on the bridge of her nose.

“Who do you want me to give a ring?”

Author's Note

Simple question this time, but an important one nonetheless!

Should Octavia go play a song with Fiddle Sticks or Drifter?
A) Fiddle Sticks
B) Drifter

I wonder how many people have figured out the meaning of the Chapter Titles yet...