Dissociation

The air was still as a stallion made his way through the quiet night streets of Canterlot. He was hurrying; seemingly late for some pressing engagement or at least for getting home on time. He passed unseen by many, the few ponies that inhabited the street at this time either intoxicated or keeping to themselves; truth be told the stallion didn’t even notice them himself. As he entered Canterlot’s main park he slowed his canter to a slow trot and finally came to a stop.

He panted a few times and looked up at the clear night sky above him. Tonight had been an interesting night indeed but how he had managed to forget the time was beyond him. He shook his head and was about to set off once more when a sudden blow from behind him sent him spiralling to the ground. His head throbbed from the impact, new stars appearing in his vision to join those in the sky. He let out a small groan and raised a hoof to his head where the pain was coming from but as he touched it he recoiled his hoof sharply.

Something wet and sticky was covering his hoof but the lack of light in the park meant he was unable to see what it was. Slowly he raised his hoof upwards until the light of the moon glinted across the crimson liquid that was slowly staining his fur. For a moment he froze, unable to comprehend what was going on, before he realised what was covering his hoof.

He was about to scream when the sound of breathing caught his attention. He looked to his side, the throb in his head sending him reeling for a moment before he managed to focus. A pony stood there, or at least what he assumed to be a pony due to the long cape and hood that covered their entire body. They were breathing loudly and looking directly at him although the shadow of their hood shielded their face from view.

Then it happened; a faint giggle like a childish laugh of glee and fun left the shadow’s form. The stallion didn’t know what to think or say; his body gripped by fear and pain. The figure stepped forwards, covering the distance to the stallion in a moment. He tried to move, tried to get out of the way of the figure but was unable to get far due to the spinning sensation that gripped his form. Even if he had moved it wouldn’t have made much difference as the figure’s front hooves slammed down hard on his form causing him to roll over onto his back.

Again he felt his head throb and this time his stomach gave a lurch as the sudden movement slammed him onto his back. He tried to focus but as the figure leaned over him he felt himself fighting to stay awake. The last thing he saw was a faint glint of light as it reflected off a shard of metal as it was drawn from under the figure’s cloak.

Octavia Melody was just finishing her morning grooming ritual as a loud and firm knock sounded through her home. She sighed and lowered her brush to the dresser top before sliding gracefully from her seat and walking daintily towards the door. As she reached the top of the stairs the knock came again forcing the earth pony to give a small grunt of annoyance.

“Coming!” she replied in a loud tone that retained as much poise as she could.

She hated shouting and much preferred to talk quietly with the full attention of those around her but sometimes she had to admit that it was necessary. She made her way down the stairs as quickly as she could and pulled the latch back on the door. She was about to voice her irritation as she opened the door but stopped dead at the sight on her doorstep.

“Excuse me, are you Miss Octavia Melody?” asked the royal guard stood outside her door dressed in full Canterlot guard armour and regalia.

“Um…yes…that is I, what can I do for you…uh…” she replied before casting a glance over the guards rank insignia, “…sergeant?”

“May I come inside ma’am,” he asked politely, “There is an issue I must discuss with you.”

Octavia gave a small nod and opened the door fully allowing the stallion to enter. For a moment he stood and glanced around at the décor. Everything was spotlessly clean from the oak balustrade to the neatly arranged side table and gilded picture frames. In a corner a large grandfather clock stood ticking away in front of a large rug of Saddle Arabian origin. All in all the house was a sight to behold but the guard was more interested in the open door leading into the lounge area. Octavia noticed and quickly motioned for him to go in.

As the guard sat down in a large leather armchair a silence fell over the air that even the ticking of the grandfather clock couldn’t break. Eventually though Octavia decided to break the silence.

“May I offer you a drink?” she asked quietly with a motion to a large drinks cabinet.

The guard shook his head, “Not while I’m on duty ma’am.”

“Just some water then, I don’t like to be considered an inconsiderate host.”

The guard nodded slowly and Octavia spent a moment organising two drinks; a plain glass of water for the guard and something a little more extravagant for herself. As she handed the water to the guard he couldn’t help but examine the glass that Octavia held herself.

“If you don’t mind me saying ma’am, isn’t it a little early for drinking?” he commented.

Octavia took a small sip of the glass of red wine she was holding, “I’ve found that a little every morning really does give me the strength to overcome all obstacles. It may not look it but maintaining grace and poise in a world full of idiots and know-it-alls is not an easy task. Now, what is it you wanted to discuss sergeant?”

“Ah yes,” replied the guard with a small cough, “I will get straight too it, I believe you are acquainted with a stallion by the name of Gleaming Moon, yes?”

“Acquainted is a rather poor estimation sergeant,” replied Octavia after another sip of wine, “He is the current manager of the ensemble of which I am a member. He handles the paperwork, bookings, payments and such like. He does a fine job but I can’t say he’s an enjoyable fellow to be around. Always smoking these foul cigars from Manehatten and the number of times he has ‘bumped’ into me in a tight space is beyond count. Frankly I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a mare in every port if you’ll pardon me saying so. Why?”

The guard gave a small cough, “I’m afraid I have to inform you that there has been an…issue. Mr Gleaming Moon was found dead this morning in Canterlot Park.”

The sound of a wine glass hitting a wooden floor and shattering into a million pieces echoed around the room like an explosion. Octavia’s face had gone completely white and her front hooves shook like leaves in the breeze. She tried to speak but all that came out was incomprehensible gibberish. It took a few minutes for her to regain her composure after which she slowly slipped from her chair, ignoring the broken glass, and headed back towards the drinks cabinet.

“Ma’am? Are you alright?” asked the guard in a concerned manner.

Octavia didn’t reply, instead she simply opened a door in the lower part of the cabinet and took out a new bottle and a small tumbler. The guard could read the bottle label from where he sat; it was actually one of the favourites with the royal guard at the moment, Jubilee Cherry Bourbon from the southern city of Dodge Junction. Octavia quickly filled a glass and knocked back the contents in one go before pouring herself another glass and slowly returning to her seat. For a moment she sat in silence cradling the glass in her hooves.

“Ma’am?” the stallion asked again.

“Just give me a moment sergeant,” replied Octavia quickly before taking a sip from her glass, “This situation requires something a little stronger than a good red.”

The guard was courteous and remained quiet as Octavia slowly sipped at her bourbon for a few moments longer.

“Dead…by Celestia,” murmured the musician quietly before looking up, “…how?”

The guard gave a small cough before he spoke, “He…he was found bludgeoned and stabbed. Death was caused by massive blood loss, we believe he was murdered.”

Octavia returned her attention to her glass for a moment. This was practically unheard of, murdered? Why? Why would any pony do that?

The guard continued, “I’m sorry to have to bring this news to you ma’am, I know it must be difficult to believe. We are asking all those who had close relations with him to try and work out if there might have been a motive behind the attack.”

“Motive? I can’t think of…I mean he wasn’t the most pleasant of ponies to be around but…for somepony to kill him? I can’t imagine why they would do that.”

The guard nodded to himself, “You don’t have to tell us now but if you do think of anything please let the Royal Guard know, we will be conducting a full investigation into what happened by order of Celestia herself.”

The guard made a move to stand up but paused as he saw Octavia still staring into the bottom of her whiskey glass.

“Ma’am, are you really going to be alright? I can have one of my squad come over to help you if you need it.”

“No…no that won’t be…won’t be necessary,” replied Octavia slowly, “I have a…friend…visiting today.”

“Very well ma’am, but do keep us in mind if you need any further help. I can appreciate this must be very unsettling news. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll let myself out.”

Octavia just nodded as the guard left the room, the sound of the front door opening and then closing filling the air for a moment until the stillness of the clock’s tick-tock filled the air once more. She didn’t know how to process this information, it was almost like she was dreaming but she knew she wasn’t. Slowly time slipped by her and the morning soon faded away and gave way to early afternoon. Octavia’s stomach gave a growl of discomfort but even then she couldn’t bring herself to move. It wasn’t until there was a sharp knock at the door that she managed to look up but even so she couldn’t bring herself to stand. After a short moment the knock came again and then slowly the front door gave a click and opened.

“Hello! Octavia? Any pony home?” called a voice.

It was calm and well-spoken as one might expect from the elite of Canterlot but something about it caused Octavia to sigh happily. It was a moment later that the pony stepped around the doorframe and looked into the room. She was a tall pony, almost as big as Princess Luna, with a white coat and flowing pink mane that seemed to sparkle in the light. She was smiling quietly to herself but as she saw Octavia the smile dropped like a sack of bricks.

“Goodness, Octavia are you alright, you look a mess!” she stated bluntly as she whooshed to the earth ponies side.

Octavia didn’t reply, instead diverting her gaze to the glass of whiskey she still cradled between her hooves.

“Drinking like that already?” stated the pony as her horn lit up and whisked the glass out of Octavia’s grasp, “I haven’t seen you touch this stuff since…since…I can’t even recall.”

She quickly deposited the glass on the cabinet nearby and sat herself down on the floor in front of Octavia. Reaching forward she grabbed Octavia’s front hooves with her own and looked at her intently. After a moment Octavia looked up too, tears now starting to well in the corner’s of her eyes. Without warning she flung herself forwards, holding onto the pony like her life depended on it.

“Oh Fleur, I’m so glad you’re here!” she burst out as the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Fleur herself was a little stunned but gently cradled Octavia for a moment before pulling away to look at her once more. She had known Octavia for many years and knew that she was a fragile thing but she always managed to keep her emotions in check, almost seeming to be emotionless at times. This was most out of character for the earth pony.

“Octavia, what’s wrong?” she asked gently.

Octavia was silent for a moment but finally managed to explain what had happened that morning. Fleur sat and listened, nodding gently from time to time as she did. When Octavia was done Fleur was left in shock.

“A murder…in Canterlot? There hasn’t been such a thing since…since…well long before I moved here from Prance,” she said slowly, “Oh Octavia I’m so sorry to hear about this. You must be devastated.”

“Well perhaps that is a little extreme,” replied Octavia, her voice shuddering slightly as she spoke, “I…I didn’t exactly like the stallion but…despite his…failings…he was a good pony. He certainly didn’t deserve to be…killed…”

Fleur just leaned in and gave the earth pony a small hug. Octavia herself let out a sigh and let herself relax into her friend’s hooves. Despite still feeling shocked she could feel herself slowly calming down.

“Fleur…I have a favour to ask,” she said slowly, “Would you be able to stay tonight? I really could use a friend.”

“Oh course,” replied Fleur with a smile, “I was supposed to attend a dinner with Fancy Pants but he will understand.”

“Thank you…”