Symphony of Peril

Everypony had at least one secret. For Octavia, hers was one nopony would even believe at first, especially if it came from word of mouth.

She loathed the pretentiousness the upper crust of Canterlot exuded.

It wasn't as though she wasn't fond of luxury and social etiquette, but something about how the poshest of ponies behaved rubbed her the wrong way. She'd roll her eyes whenever somepony whined about not getting special treatment at a restaurant or wasn't recognized by literally everypony who trotted past them. If she could, she'd trudge up to each and every one of them and tell them to tone down the ego. Luckily, those days of having to mingle with them were few and far between.

Unluckily, today was one of those days. It was a social gathering known as the Twilight Ball, a relatively new phenomenon only in its second year. All of the posh ponies who turned any Grand Galloping Gala into a dreary bore were present, and as one of the most famous members of the Royal Canterlot Orchestra, Octavia was required to show up.

Even ponies who found themselves among the elite yearned for some peace, quiet, and relaxation; the pungent perfumes and dresses which exuded money over taste were a blockade as far as Octavia was concerned.

"When can this dull day end?" muttered Octavia. She sighed. "I just want to practice music and sleep the rest of the night."

At least the ballroom in Canterlot Castle was as lively as ever. Marble pillars jutted from the floor and up to the skies. The violet walls and gold trim coupled with the stained glass windows brightened the room. Octavia's eyes twinkled as she studied the environment; it was truly an architectural marvel. Even the table she sat at had a luxurious aura to it, the white cloth atop it was spotless—for now—and the flowers adorning it in the center filled her nostrils with a rosy aroma. The smooth surface sent chills through her forelegs at the touch.

And sitting to her right was the best part of it all.

A white unicorn with a bright blue mane and purple shades: Vinyl Scratch.

Octavia turned to Vinyl, making eye contact. "Is everything okay, Vinyl?" she asked.

Vinyl shrugged. "Yes," she said. Talking wasn't something Vinyl was fond of, though if needed, she could string some sentences together. Music, techno tunes blaring from her famous turntable, were her main methods of expressing herself, even if Octavia's ear drums cried out for an alternative. But it also warmed Octavia's heart at the thought for reasons she couldn't explain.

"Are you getting along with the other guests?"

With pursed lips, Vinyl shook her head.

"I can't blame you there." Another sigh left Octavia's lips. "Honestly, it's as though none of these ponies know the concept of fun. You know what I mean, right?"

Vinyl nodded. She then crossed her forelegs and rolled her eyes underneath her shades.

"I wonder if anypony else is feeling the same way?" Octavia rubbed her muzzle. "Maybe there's just one pony who isn't so full of themselves that I can talk to." Scanning the room once more, Octavia noticed most of the patrons wearing frilly dresses or black suits, all of them adorned with smug, ghastly smirks which made her wince. It was as though haughtiness was given life.

Wincing a tad, she shifted her gaze toward the leftmost corner of the room. For once, the ponies present wore normal faces and their dresses struck the perfect balance between luxury and expression. Octavia turned back to Vinyl. "Do you think we could get away with moving elsewhere?" she asked.

Vinyl froze in place for a moment. Gently tapping the table for a moment, a faint smirk decorated her visage. "Why do ya ask?" she responded.

"We'll probably suffocate out of boredom if we're forced to spend any time with—" Without warning, a shoulder brushed against Octavia's head. Aches covered the stricken portion as she rubbed it, turning to spot Jet Set and Upper Crust trotting past with ugly scowls. There were more creases in their scrunched muzzle than she could count. "As I was saying, Vinyl, if we have to spend time with such rude ponies, I'd probably try to devise ways of getting kicked out instead of just 'enjoying' the event."

"Why would ya wanna get kicked out?"

"You know how I feel about these places." Octavia pouted, groaning. "Same goes for the rotten attitude. There's a reason why I prefer Ponyville to Canterlot."

Vinyl merely nodded with a slight smile. Octavia knew it usually meant she understood.

"So then, there's a place in the far left corner of the room." Octavia pointed to the region, the crowd consisting of a few familiar faces. All of them were decorated with radiant, natural smiles instead of the faux ones most attendees plastered on their faces. "They all seem friendly."

Bringing her gaze to the area in question, Vinyl bobbed her head once more.

"The problem is that such a society doesn't take kindly to moving far away from our assigned seats."

"Yeah, it's kinda stupid," muttered Vinyl, her tone blunter than a damaged sword.

"So, shall we chat with them?"

Bobbing her head again, Vinyl donned a bright grin.

"Marvelous."

Without wasting a second, both Octavia and Vinyl stood upright, pushing their chairs in and trekking across the tiled floor toward their destination. A heaviness lifted from Octavia's shoulders as she abandoned the table, her muscles loosening as well. There was something oddly liberating about disregarding such pointless norms and forging her path. It was breaking free from the shackles of conformity in Octavia's mind, being able to breathe once more. The skip in Vinyl's step as she trotted alongside her hinted she felt the same way.

The repetition of clacks ended as soon as they were a few hoofsteps away from the party in question. Sitting at one of the tables was none other than Rarity, her purple and curly mane standing out in the light. Chances were she attended the Twilight Ball alongside her five other friends due to her status in Equestrian society. Being the embodiment of any emotion must've been exhausting work; at least Octavia saw it that way.

Adorning Rarity was the frilled dress she wore at the Grand Galloping Gala a year or so ago, sparkling as brightly as ever. Octavia always smiled a tad whenever she spotted her, the fashionista especially helpful during her plight for a concert in the Crystal Empire. The quest for the right wardrobe was something Octavia knew she'd never forget.

Rarity's younger sister, Sweetie Belle, sat right next to her. The filly's beaming grin forced Octavia to adopt a similar expression at the sight. She refused to sit still, bouncing around like a spring in her seat. At least her eating habits were nowhere near as messy, always making sure to use her napkin if needed and not gobbling up her plate like a vacuum. Her behavior was rather adorable as far as Octavia was concerned.

And seated across from them were two members of the Apples, Applejack and Apple Bloom. Both wore smiles of their own and worked through a mouthwatering Prench apple tart. The fruity, crisp scent tickled Octavia's nostrils. She'd probably ask for a quick taste if she was starving, though her packed stomach argued the opposite.

Rarity glanced to her right, spotting Octavia and Vinyl. "Hello, dears," she greeted. "Have you been enjoying the ball?"

"Not particularly," confessed Octavia. "Some of the ponies we've butted shoulders with have been—" Octavia rubbed the back of her neck "—not the kindest of ponies."

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

"No need to apologize." Octavia paused for a moment. "Anyway, how are you?"

"I'm feeling simply divine." Rarity placed her hooves atop the table. "The food here has been exquisite. I've never had a meal as good as mine in a long time."

"I'll give you that. The food does have a wonderful taste to it." Wonderful was an understatement in her eyes. The salad Octavia ordered a few hours ago was sublime; the dressings and the fruits which accompanied it pleasing her taste buds at the thought. "So, how's everything else?"

"It's fine. I've stuck with my friends throughout the night, so I don't think I've had the same kinds of experiences you've had."

"However, there's somethin' fishy about this ball," added Applejack. She assumed a bemused expression, brow raised. "I don't know why, but I can't shake the feelin' that somepony's been watchin' us."

Octavia tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Just call it a hunch, but I think somepony's lookin' for trouble." Pausing, Applejack then straightened her seating posture. "I saw a stallion sneakin' around the ballroom earlier, and I think I saw somepony else with the funniest look."

"I saw her as well," said Rarity. "She was the one with the handkerchief, right?"

"Yep."

"There was something odd about her. Maybe we should ask her if everything is alright if we see her again."

Octavia rolled her shoulders, lips pursed. "Perhaps they're just the haughty types I mentioned before," she said. However, a tingling sensation coursed through her spine. A peculiar uneasiness swirled throughout the room, tightening her throat for a moment. "Well, maybe somepony should keep an eye on them."

"Don't worry, dear." Rarity forced a smile on her face. "The Royal Guard is supposedly looking into it."

Octavia wiped her brow. "That's a relief."

"What would they even want?" asked Sweetie. She arched an eyebrow. "And why would they even wanna cause trouble in the first place? It's just some fancy event."

"Maybe they're tryin' to steal some bits," Apple Bloom suggested. "That's what I think is goin' on."

Vinyl trotted toward the table and bobbed her head. She raised her hoof and cracked a smile.

"So you think the same thing?"

Another nod was Vinyl's response.

"Gotcha."

In a flash, Rarity turned to face Vinyl, their eyes gazing into each other. "Who would your friend be?" asked Rarity.

"I'm Vinyl Scratch," she answered, adjusting her shades. "It's nice to meet ya."

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, darling." The two then shook hooves. "I hope you're having a fun time here."

Vinyl shrugged, head cocked. "I'm in the same boat as Tavi."

"That's unfortunate." Rarity sighed. Grabbing a nearby glass, she took a sip of water. "Hopefully, things liven up in a positive and glamorous way."

"Anything positive would do," said Octavia. She twiddled her mane for a moment.

If something positive or fun crossed paths with her, it'd only salvage the Twilight Ball in her eyes. Having the chance to perform a solo in front of those who appreciated music would've been a start, given how much melodies soothed her ears even during the most stressful times. However, with not a peep reaching her regarding a solo or even a concert, such desires were likely stuck as dreams.

"Do you wanna join us?" asked Apple Bloom; she leaned closer to Octavia and Vinyl. "C'mon, it'll be fun!"

Octavia and Vinyl shared glances with each other. A moment later, Vinyl nodded; Octavia responded in kind.

"We'll join you," said Octavia, bringing her gaze back to the group. "We'd be honored to spend time with you."

"That's wonderful!" Rarity cheered. A radiant grin was plastered on her face. "Please take a seat and make yourselves comfortable."

Octavia and Vinyl scanned the room for a moment. Spotting a few unoccupied chairs off to the side, they slid them over to where the group was before sitting down. A slight chill covered the seats, the hairs of Octavia's coat standing up the moment she touched the smooth metal. At least the backrest comfortably hugged her body.

"Octavia," said Rarity as she locked eyes with her. "Do you have any plans for playing music tonight?"

Octavia shook her head. "Sadly, I don't," she replied. "The Royal Canterlot Orchestra's instructions were to just show up and exude class throughout the event." Faint chuckles left her lips. "Those weren't their exact words, but that's what they were stressing in their invitation. And if they did phrase it like that, it wouldn't surprise me."

"How come?"

"The Royal Canterlot Orchestra is filled with some—" Octavia gently twirled her hoof around "—interesting characters." Another slow laugh escaped her mouth, cheeks reddened. "Vinyl can vouch for me."

"I hope they're at least friendly and sociable. And it's a shame that you're not playing tonight, as I adore your exquisite music. It's the most marvelous antidote for my ears."

Smirking, Octavia's cheeks flushed a little. "Why thank you. I do appreciate your compliments."

"You're welcome, darling." Rarity turned to face Vinyl. "And what brings you here?"

"Just hanging out with Tavi," Vinyl softly answered. "It's nice spending time with her, though I wish the Twilight Ball wasn't so—" Vinyl winced and gnashed her teeth "—so pretentious and boring."

"I can agree with ya on that one," said Applejack. She raised a hoof and donned a bemused expression. "It makes the Grand Galloping Gala look like one of Pinkie Pie's parties."

"It makes a monotonous business meeting look exciting," Octavia murmured. She yawned, stretching her forelegs out. "Anyway, does anypony have something planned after this winds down?"

Vinyl merely shook her head.

"I'm probably gonna get some shuteye when I get back home. Same goes for Apple Bloom."

Without warning, Apple Bloom raised her hoof. "But what if I—"

"Ya can't stay up past midnight, remember?"

Pouting, Apple Bloom groaned and ruffled her brow. "Fine."

"How about you, Rarity?"

"We're planning on doing the same when we get back," said Rarity. Sweetie Belle slowly nodded in agreement, yawns escaping her throat and eyes half-open. "I have some orders for Sassy Saddles and Sapphire Shores I need to tidy up for tomorrow. I can't waste much time on those."

"You've met Sapphire Shores as well?" Leaning closer to Rarity, Octavia's lips curled into a faint smile. "That's wonderful!" She'd only met Sapphire once in her life, though the experience was definitely unforgettable. Something about the star's personality and cheerful demeanor brightened even the dimmest of rooms. "Was she as lively as I recall?"

"I don't know what your experience with her was, but I'd say she was marvelous."

"That's how I'd—"

"Octavia Melody!" a voice hollered from afar.

Octavia's throat tightened a little. Rarely did anypony use her full name, let alone shout it in such a commanding tone. Slowly peeking behind her, she noticed a burly stallion wearing a tuxedo approaching her. Black shades dangled from his neck and his pale blue coat highlighted the wrinkles on his forehead. A putrid stench filled the air, Octavia cringing and shielding her nose for a moment. Yet that wasn't the only scent coming from the stallion.

There was another, undefinable scent he carried. It was also one Octavia twinged at; the scent forbade something serious as opposed to being a pungent perfume. It wasn't what she'd define as a typical smell.

However, her eyes were a bit droopy. Maybe she was just getting drowsy.

That had to be it.

"Octavia Melody, you know very well where you're supposed to be," the stallion continued. He huffed and puffed, a hoof pressing on his chest as he stood as tall as possible. "You're supposed to be over on the stage performing a solo for everypony, remember?"

Octavia arched an eyebrow. She'd received no notes regarding a performance, let alone a solo featuring her. Unless the mail was accidentally lost among a sea of envelopes in the delivery process, she was never scheduled to be up on stage. Perhaps the stallion was somepony's assistant; Octavia noticed some stains on his tuxedo and the misaligned tie around him. Those finer details struck out the odds of him being an esteemed assistant. Then there were the strange characters the others told her about.

But she couldn't disappoint the Royal Canterlot Orchestra if they needed her. If she refused to obey the orchestra, she'd have to curl up in her blanket and hide from the consequences.

"I must have not received the note," Octavia answered at last. She exhaled, muscles loosening. "My apologies, but who are you?"

"I'm W—Willow Wisp," the stallion answered, providing a business card. However, his name was hastily scribbled on with a black marker as opposed to the meticulously clean writing the Royal Canterlot Orchestra stressed. A small portion was even scribbled out. However, the logos decorating the card alongside the name checked out. "I'm serving the Royal Canterlot Orchestra for today."

"That's—a unique name." Octavia tilted her head. "No offense."

"You have no idea how often I get that." Willow feigned a snicker. He then motioned a hoof toward the back wall, an elevated platform completely unattended nearby. "Hurry up. You mustn't be late."

Octavia pushed her chair away from the table and then stood up. Without warning, Willow patted Octavia's back, earning him a scowl from the latter. "Please don't be so pushy."

"I won't be if you move faster."

Octavia rolled her eyes. Straightening her posture, she glanced back to everypony back at the table and waved.

"Good luck, Octavia," said Rarity. "We're supporting you all the way!"

Vinyl simply nodded, cracking a wide smile.

"Thanks for the support, everypony," Octavia responded, a sheepish smile across her face.

With a deep breath, she then weaved her way through the chairs and tables scattered about the room. The curious glances she received from the other patrons weren't unusual, given how being pulled from a table to a stage was bound to garner attention. Yet of the ponies gazing at her, some watched her like a hawk. It sent shivers down her spine, particularly some of the more well-adorned mares covered from head to hoof in jewelry. There was a vileness which emanated from them.

At least playing the cello would relieve some of the internal tension. It always did.

Music was her love.

She just hoped nothing would yank her from playing such soothing melodies.

Continuing her way across the room, weaving through furniture as though she was on an obstacle course, Octavia arrived at the stage. Yet as she exhaled and awaited her instrument, two other ponies joined her with perplexed visages. One was a pale blue mare named Beauty Brass, her pinkish dress perfect for blending in with the other haughty ponies.

The other was a purple stallion known as Parish Nandermane, only a tie adorning his neck. From Octavia's brief encounters with him, fashion was never something he considered; he'd flail his hooves about as he tried to put a tie on, eventually sighing and trotting out with it crooked or in a bundled mess.

Neither Brass nor Parish had been known for cracking a smile, let alone anything resembling a facial expression outside of wrinkly frustration or featureless boredom. While Octavia was somewhat reserved herself, she conveyed more expressions in a day than what Brass or Parish showed in a year. She sometimes wondered if she behaved in such a way as to earn the cold shoulder from them, but her interactions with them were few and far between.

Not to mention they refused to crack smiles even if requested. One would have to beg for them if they needed one.

And upon recalling the pair, chills coursed through Octavia's spine upon spotting them with tilted heads and arched brows. Both of them being replaced by changelings who didn't do their homework was one such possibility. Despite this, there wasn't the thinness in the air associated with the presence of changelings.

"What are you two doing here?" asked Brass, her sharp tone like claws on a chalkboard. "I thought this was supposed to be my solo."

"It's supposed to be my solo, not yours," Parish hissed under his breath. He pouted. "Trying to steal the show, are we?"

"Funny." Brass averted her gaze from Parish, rolling her eyes. "I would've said the same about you." Pausing for a second, she then shot a glare at Octavia, the latter stepping back a little. "And why are you here, Octavia?"

"I was told to show up here for a solo as well," said Octavia. She shrugged, a tingling sensation forming at the back of her head. "Did a Willow Wisp ask you to show up?"

Both Brass and Parish nodded.

"He told me to show up here as well."

In a flash, the two shuddered, making eye contact with Octavia.

"Excuse me?" Parish blurted out. "Did you say Willow Wisp?"

Octavia nodded. "I did."

"Willow Wisp asked me to come up and perform a solo as well," Brass added. She rubbed her muzzle. "Do you think this was a misunderstanding?"

"I doubt it."

"How come?"

Exhaling, Octavia gently tapped the stage's floor, ear-splitting clacks reaching her ears. She twitched, cheeks somewhat pale. Most stages she performed on in the past had a fluffy carpet or smooth wood beneath her, the familiar shuffles or clicks whenever somepony stepped onto them etched in her mind. Everypony wanted the musicians or minstrels to be content, after all. That was how quality music was passed along. However, this stage's sounds were unlike what she was used to.

They were more like glass.

No music worth listening to would come from there.

And as she mused about the stage, something about its general build felt off as well. The stages in Canterlot were typically like this, an elevated platform, though this one seemed—almost like an afterthought.

"Did you think of something, Octavia?" asked Parish. "Or are you just as lost as we are?"

"A little of both, if I must be honest," Octavia answered. She patted the floor once more; the same clacking sound polluted the air. "Either this stage is built unlike any before it, or Willow Wisp sent us to the wrong location."

"Where do you think the right location would be?" asked Brass.

Leaping off of the stage, Octavia trotted away from the pair with a scrunched muzzle. Brass and Parish followed her soon after, donning the same blank expressions they usually wore. "I don't know." A groan escaped her lips. "I do hope there's some sort of explanation. Everything about this is odd. From the stage's appearance, material, and location to being dragged over here by the same pony and everything else, something just isn't adding up."

"It probably is some misunderstanding." Rolling her eyes, Brass turned to her left and trudged away from the scene. "Just go back to your seat and pretend nothing happened." With a flick of her tail, she then blended in with a nearby group of ponies huddled next to each other; indistinct whispers left their mouths, Octavia's ears twitching as she picked up the words. Yet none of it was of any interest.

For a brief second, nopony said a peep. Octavia heard her own breathing. The room felt colder than ever before; she shivered as a white mist left her mouth.

"Well, I guess I'll be heading back to my table," said Octavia as she regained her composure. "The next time we meet up better be important, or—"

A crackling sound reached her ears; Octavia's legs quivered as tingles had spread throughout her body. A heartbeat later, she glanced behind her at the noise's source. But nopony was doing anything suspicious. All of their faces were adorned with widened eyes, drooping jaws, or both. Some gasps even left a few ponies. However, nothing out of the ordinary was before her.

Octavia trudged toward the stage, her chest tightening itself into a knot. Each step she took was heavier than the last.

"What—happened?" Octavia questioned. "Is everypony okay?"

Nopony was groaning or shrieking in pain, let alone lying on the floor out cold. And as Octavia approached the stage once more, its form a bit more uneven than before, she soon realized why everypony was so pale.

Much of the glass-like floor was cracked, fissures running along it to where even a feather could've destroyed the whole thing. In the stage's center was a small hole, likely only a few inches in diameter, but it was powerful enough to render the stage unusable in its current state. Octavia continued tottering toward the broken stage. A few shards managed to land outside of the stage, their forms glowing like tiny stars.

Upon arriving as closely to the stage as she could, Octavia peered down at the hole in the center. Inside was a small, concrete niche carved into the main floor. No cushions or anything were supplied at the bottom, and peeking outside was a strange mechanism consisting of a gray, rusted block.

Octavia's pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. She clenched her teeth, creeping away from the scene as the world became less steady. It was as though everything was on uneven ground. Placing a hoof to her forehead, lightness overcame Octavia, her veins freezing and muscles constricting her.

Somepony was trying to harm Brass, Parish, and her. It wouldn't have killed her, but the thought of splitting her leg bones into pieces churned her stomach. She swore her cheeks were turning into a pale green. At the same time, not a single name crossed her mind as to who'd yearn to harm her, let alone in such a flashy manner. Even the strange devices used to perform such a stunt were elaborate in nature. Anypony who glanced at the hole raised eyebrows in response; not a single theory which left somepony's mouth had any basis in reality.

A white blob tapped her shoulder. Muffled sounds polluted the air.

"Octavia, are you okay?" a voice hollered.

"V-Vinyl?" Octavia shivered as gravity behaved normally once more. She swiveled behind her to find Vinyl wearing a grim visage, lips pursed. "I'm okay now." A deep breath left her mouth. "But to think I almost fell into that hole. I probably wouldn't have been able to play for months if I fell in there—or worse."

Octavia cringed. Glancing back at the broken stage, now a shattered window if anything, her ears wiggled as a shuffling sound reached them. She raised her head; a shadowy figure was perched as high as possible. Any details regarding the figure's appearance or gender were shrouded by distance, though its pony-like shape did narrow things down a bit.

And in the blink of an eye, the figure disappeared from sight, almost as if it never existed in the first place.

No wings flapped and feathers fluttered.

No horn lit up or cast a bright aura.

The figure just vanished.

Princess Twilight Sparkle arrived at the scene seconds later; a grim expression adorned her face. Studying the room and the hundreds of ponies refusing to blink or look away from her, she then glanced over to where Octavia and her fellow musicians all stood. She flashed the faintest of smirks and wiped sweat from her brow.

"Thank goodness nopony is hurt," said Twilight. Folding her wings, she trotted toward Octavia. "Do you know who might've done something so horrible?"

Octavia shook her head. "I wish I knew. I can't think of anypony who'd fit the description."

"That's unfortunate." Twilight rubbed her muzzle. "But if the cases I've read in the past are anything to go by, chances are the culprit has some sort of relationship with you." She paused for a moment, pursing her lips. "Then again, questioning all of the Royal Canterlot Orchestra outside of you or your friends would take too long. And as far as I know, I haven't noticed internal tension when I've seen the whole orchestra before."

Octavia nodded and her throat tightened. There was little doubt the Royal Canterlot Orchestra had little to no role in whatever just transpired. As an integral piece to the whole, the same applying to all of the band members, trying to injure her and keep her out of the orchestra just didn't add up. If there was some sort of competitive aspect to it all, she'd have a hunch, but it wasn't as though cellists were particularly needed, especially with her on the scene.

"Anyway, I'll continue the investigation throughout the castle," Twilight continued. She unfurled her wings and, as she gently flapped them, took to the air as a mild gust swirled beneath her. "Let me know if you have any questions, okay?"

Octavia nodded. "Understood, your majesty."

"Please, just call me Twilight. No need to be so formal." She blushed for a split second. "Anyway, feel free to inform me if you also discover anything."

"We'll help out, dear," said Rarity.

"Thank you, Rarity." Twilight rubbed the top of her head, eyes closed for a second. After a brief pause, she nodded. "Okay, let's split up. I'll get everypony else up to speed and we'll search throughout the castle. And by splitting up, we'll cover more ground and find out more in a shorter time. I doubt the culprit managed to get too far without somepony noticing him or her."

"Sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Excellent!" She clasped her hooves together. "Let's get to the bottom of this, everypony!"

And as Twilight glided across the room and through one of the adjacent rooms, Octavia only watched as she took deep breaths. Her chest expanded and contracted as though she'd just climbed the mountain leading to Griffonstone, though she'd prefer the tasks that made her muscles twinge than being tossed into whatever was occurring. The countless questions she stared down, all increasing by the second, only added to the air's tightness.

Something more complex was ahoof; that was all Octavia knew for certain.

Any hopes of the future being nothing but calm were quickly dashed. Octavia only wished the investigation wouldn't prove so troublesome.

Then again, situations such as this were never simple. Octavia had yet to encounter or think of a single example that would suggest otherwise.