Octavia Plays her First Instrument(s)

by Veridian Phantom

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Original Character, Octavia, Slice of Life
Length: 10898

This tale is of how Octavia has come to discover the melodious sound of the cello.

Octavia's past isn't mentioned often, or heard of for that matter. This story aims to change that.

This tale is of how Octavia has come to discover the melodious sound of the cello. And a very traumatic event is what started it.

A/N: This story ties in with chapter 5 of this story:http://www.fimfiction.net/story/44883/The-Master-Cellist

Picture by *Dreatos on deviantArt

Published 2012-10-05 20:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-10-05 20:40:01 UTC

History

Octavia Plays Her First Instrument(s)

Many families have a special talent, and said talent gets passed down through the generations. Take the Philharmonica’s for example; they all excel in playing classical instruments such as the cello, saxophone, flute and others. In generations past, the elders chose the age of six as being the perfect time in a young filly’s life to choose the instrument that they would play. At the age of six, a young filly already had a full year of schooling, discipline, socializing and mind-body coordination which is essential for what it takes to choose an instrument and to have the commitment it takes, to play one. This is the story of Octavia Philharmonica and how she became ‘The Master Cellist’. It all started when she turned six years old.

Octavia got out of her chauffeur pony-run carriage with her parents and looked around at the bustling city of Manehattan. Buildings as tall as the sky lined both sides of the street. The main street was always very busy with ponies going in and out of all the different shops, and today was no different. Even at night it was busy because the city lights let off a glow that could be seen for miles around, just by the sheer volume of lights. The crime rate in Manehattan was minimal but one still had to be careful and there were certain areas of the city that one should stay away from, especially if the somepony had bits.

Today the Philharmonica’s came into the city for a very special occasion, it was their daughter Octavia’s sixth birthday. Not only was it a big day because it was her birthday but it was also the day that she had to choose an instrument to play. The family being extremely wealthy (millionaires to be exact), had no problem buying an instrument for their daughter, that was the easy part, finding out which one she would resonate with was the hard part.

Within said city was an instrument shop that carried only top quality instruments from named brands such as: Gibson, Ludwig and Saga. The shop was called Winstrum’s Instruments. It was a very large shop and you could tell by the storefront’s size. The large glass showcase, displayed only a few of the many instruments that could be found inside.

Octavia was the first one to enter the shop and she was amazed and intimidated by all the different types of musical instruments that were displayed on the walls, let alone, the countless rows of shelves housing snares, bongos, cymbals, reeds, guitar strings and every other kind of string you could want.

The shopkeeper Instrum Winstrum was a long-time friend of the Philharmonica’s; he’d cared for the well-being of their instruments for many, many years and often offered them discounts most of the time. He was old and wise, his mane a dark grey color, and his tail was ruffled up and scruffy. His coat was a fine navy color and his eyes were blue to match.

“Well hello, Tuner, Octave and Octavia, what can I do for you today? he asked with a pleased smile. He looked down toward Octavia and saw that she was trying to hide from him. “Ah… Don’t be shy young one, I’ve been a friend of your parents for a very long time, come now, you’ve seen me on countless occasions, you should be used to me by now.” He softened his tone to accommodate for his shy guest.

Octavia slowly came out from behind her mother and quietly replied: “H-hello.”

This time, looking directly at Octavia, he posed his question again: “Now, what is it I can do for you today?”

Octavia paused for a moment, not moving, still unsure of herself. She began to feel even more nervous and fiddled with her long black mane, unsure of her answer.

When Octavia didn’t answer, her mother did: “We’re here to buy Octavia’s first instrument. She just turned six today”, her mother replied happily.

Octavia looked up at her mother and saw the big smile on her face. She couldn’t ever remember a time when her mother wasn’t happy or cheerful.

Instrum immediately wished Octavia a Happy Birthday and then added: “Hmmm, you’re not the only ones to come in for a first instrument tryout. Just last week, Drum Solo, the famous drummer from the band ‘Warhorse_Legend’, brought his son in to get his first set of drums.”

“How interesting… I heard his son is quite the little drummer. He caused quite a ruckus in class the other day, by using the trash cans as drums and his pencils as drum sticks. Everyone says that he’ll be just like his father”.

“I take it you’d like to use the soundproof practice room in the back to try out some instruments?” He already knew the answer, but asked out of habit.

“Yes of course, Octave answered, but I do believe that you should be the one to help Octavia find which instrument would best suit her”, she stated.

Instrum looked at Octave with a pleading face of: ‘please don’t make me do this!’ “Octave, you know I’ve been a long-time friend, but I shouldn’t be the one to judge which instrument your daughter will be best suited for.” A ‘sorry’ expression crossed his face.

“Normally, I wouldn’t ask you to do something like this but Tuner and I have a previous engagement and I trust that I can leave her in your care,” Octave pleaded.

Octavia looked up at her mother and father with worry; she ran back behind her mother and grabbed hold of her left rear leg, peeking out occasionally at Instrum. Instrum was also stunned to hear of this sudden task. He looked at Octavia and then her mother several times over before processing that he didn’t have much of a choice. Not only were Tuner and Octave very good friends but they were also his number one customers and thus he couldn’t disappoint them.

Sighing in defeat he agreed to watch their daughter and to guide her to find her instrument.

“Alright, fine, you win. Just come back as quickly as you can,” he suggested timidly.

“Thank-you so much Instrum, we’ll be back within a few hours.” Both parents looked very thankful and smiled. Octave knelt down to be eye level with her daughter.

“Now sweetie, we’ll only be gone for a few hours, when we return hopefully you’ll have picked out your instrument and we can begin practicing okay?”

“O-okay mother, come back quickly,” she said sadly.

“Don’t worry pumpkin, we’ll be back soon,” said her father.

Tuner and Octave said their goodbyes and exited the shop leaving Instrum and Octavia standing there flabbergasted, unsure of what to do or say. An awkward moment of silence passed between the two of them before Instrum decided to break it.

“So… umm, Octavia, shall we begin?” he inquired.

Octavia didn’t say a word; she merely stared at the entrance to the shop, hoping her parents would come back in. A few seconds later, she realized that wasn’t going to happen. She turned to face Instrum, looked up at him with her big light purple eyes and said: “S-sure.”

“Do you know any instruments you’d like to try?” he asked. He started to walk towards the practice room, expecting her to follow.

“No, I… don’t.” She rubbed her fore-hooves together nervously, staying where she was.

Instrum turned around when he noticed that she wasn’t following him. “Hmm, I see… Well then let’s begin with wind instruments. Would you please come into the practice room and get comfortable. I’ll select an instrument for you to try.” Instrum unlocked the door of the practice room and then went back to the front of the store to fetch a few instruments from the wind section.

Octavia complied and slowly walked into the room. The room consisted of a chair; a few electrical wires; a music sheet stand and a few different stands to hold things like a keyboard, a guitar and a few other types that required plug-ins. The walls were all white and puffy; they looked like somepony had stuck pillows all over them or even like the walls that you would see in an insane asylum room, but Octavia remembered Instrum saying that it was a soundproof practice room, hence the pillow-like look of the walls. The floor was shiny hardwood for not only comfort, but good acoustics.

Instrum walked back into the room with two wind instruments in tow. Octavia didn’t know what they were but looked at them with wonderment and excitement anyway. She watched him as he placed each instrument on its appropriate stand at the back of the room.

“The one on the left is an alto saxophone and the one on the right is a flute. First I’ll have you try the alto sax. Practice with each one for ten minutes or so, which will give you enough time to see if it’s the right one for you. The majority of your relatives have all been quick learners when it comes to playing an instrument, once they found the right one that suited them, of course! Which means… finding your instrument shouldn’t take more than exactly a few hours, convenient I’d say!” he quipped.

Instrum removed the alto sax from its stand and brought it over to the young filly in the chair. Octavia took the sax and placed the strap around her neck, with that, she held it, confused as to what to do next.

“Good, good, now that you’ve put the strap on, hold the saxophone straight and line the mouth-piece up to your mouth. Hold the sax where the hooks are for your hooves and you’re good to go, now… just blow into it, while curling your lower lip inwards,” he instructed.

Octavia did exactly as Instrum instructed and blew into the instrument a few times, with a huff and a puff, but to no avail. The instrument simply blew air out and squeaked piercingly. After about ten minutes of bad squeaks and blats, it was time to try the flute.

Instrum returned the alto sax to the stand and brought out the flute, he took extra care in handling this one due to its delicate nature. Octavia gently took the flute from him and tried to figure out how to blow into it, but didn’t know how. “The hole is misplaced, are you sure this is right?” she asked confused as she pointed to the hole on the side of the flute.

“Yes, that’s the right place for the hole to be for this type of instrument. The way a flute works is that you have to hold it sideways. Hold the flute sideways to your body, and then have the mouth-piece on the left side and facing you. Once you’ve done that, bring up the instrument to your lower lip and then you blow into it like you’re whistling.” Instrum then showed her where to place her hooves and let her have a go at it. He stepped in every now-and-then to help her better understand the instrument, but… like science, some experiments fail. Ten minutes passed and the flute was no good either. He figured that maybe wind instruments weren’t the way to go with her. The sound of a small bell rang to alert him that somepony had entered the store.

“If you’ll excuse me, I must attend to the customer and then I’ll be back with some percussion instruments, okay?” He turned to leave the room and paused for a moment; he looked back at Octavia, smiled and headed out.

“Okay…” she said softly. She looked down at the ground with a sad expression and mumbled to herself. “Why is everypony leaving? Why do ponies always have to leave their loved ones?”

Octavia could hear Instrum faintly saying: “Thank you for your purchase, please come again!” to the customer now leaving the store. The little bell rang again.

Just as Instrum was heading back to the practice room, he heard a shrill scream come from the soundproof room, audible only by the open door. He ran so fast that he almost knocked over a few things on the way. He burst into the room in a panic; looked around the room and couldn’t see anything immediately wrong except for a squirming and rolling little filly on the ground.

“Get it off, get it off, get it off of me!” Octavia wailed.

“Get what off!?” Instrum yelled.

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s on my face and I want you to get it off me!”

Instrum rushed to the filly, trying to keep her still as she continued to squirm, he was finally able to turn her over and examine her face. On her nose rested a spider trying to hold on for dear life from the extreme ride it just had. Instrum flicked it off; watched where it flew; grabbed it and brought it outside post-haste. He rushed back into the room and cradled the young filly in a hug. He rocked her back and forth to try and calm her.

“Shh, shh… It’s okay now, the spider is gone.” He repeated the same words over and over until Octavia finally stopped shaking and crying, after a few moments of rocking, she started to calm down.

“So why did the spider scare you?”

“Because… it landed on my nose out of nowhere… a-and I didn’t know what it was… it looked scary,” she whispered through her tears.

“Spiders won’t hurt you little one, always remember that, okay?” He held her out so that they were face-to face looking into each-others eyes. Octavia looked deep into his eyes to find the hidden lie. She could tell that there was a little bit of truth and a little bit of lie in what he said. She knew that there were some spiders that where completely harmless but then again there were some spiders that had a deadly bite. She just didn’t know what a bad spider or a good spider looked like.

Instrum cuddled her until she was ready to continue. When she started to pull away, he knew that she was alright. Octavia got up and reluctantly went back to her chair; she immediately looked up to make sure that there were no more spiders lurking above her ready to pounce again.

Instrum asked her if she wanted to go with him to pick out some percussion instruments (as he was almost too afraid to leave her alone again) but she shook her head ‘no’ so he headed out quickly to get them himself.

When Instrum walked back into the room he could see the relief on Octavia’s face at his quick return, she whispered a small ‘thank you’. His heart melted and he gave her a little reassuring smile but he could tell that she felt a little embarrassed about the whole ordeal, so he went on as if nothing happened to help her feel better. He placed the snare drum on the ground in front of her and gave her two drum sticks.

“Let’s see what you can do with this. All you have to do is to tap gently on the surface with the sticks until you get the idea of the sound that it makes, and then as you get used to it you can tap a little harder. The drum is all about rhythm and the creativity of the rhythm that the beat instills in you.

Octavia banged on the drum once and realized it was too loud so she did the best that she could and tapped a little softer. After a few minutes the sound began to drag on and Octavia kept playing the same beat – over and over again. The creativity of the drum beat and rhythm didn’t come to her. Instrum decided to cut this practice session short and gave her a xylophone to try.

“This instrument has an amazing sound, it requires some creativity like the drum, but the sound has multiple golden tones. You may actually like this one. Use the batons to tap the silver keys.

She followed what he said and hit a silver key one at a time to hear what tone each key would make. She smiled with a bit of triumph when she was able to play a tune that was something similar to ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’.

“Now there’s a little progress! What do you think and feel about the xylophone? Instrum asked.

Octavia’s shoulders slumped as she put down the batons and said: “I’m sorry; I don’t really like this instrument. It sounds too…” She put a hoof to her chin as if in deep thought, trying to find the right word to describe how she felt about the sound and feel of the instrument.

“Too… what? He asked impatiently.

“Oh, what’s the word I’m looking for?” She looked up as if the ceiling had the answer.

Instrum tried to help – “It sounds…basic; monotone; original; bell-ish, do any of these words describe it?”

“No, none of those words. Hang on! I got it! The word is ‘bland’. It feels like there is not enough creativity to it at all… all you do is ‘smack’ the keys, much like the drum.”

Instrum face-hoofed himself in exasperation and proceeded to bring the percussion instruments back to the front and put them where they belonged. ‘Percussion instruments are not Octavia’s forte either, so all that’s left are the stringed instruments’ he thought to himself. He grabbed two stringed instruments for her to try, the violin and the guitar. He went back into the room and placed the violin on a table near the stands at the back and brought the young filly the guitar to try first.

Octavia knew how to place the guitar in her lap because she had seen others play and she did like the sound of the guitar so she thought that this just might be the one for her. The guitar was much smaller than the others ones that she had seen, so she guessed that this was a beginners guitar. ‘It feels smooth; a little heavy but it fits well’ she thought.
Instrum was pleased to see that she knew how to hold it, but she still waited for further instructions. “Hold down the strings along the neck to make the strings sound different every time you strum it. To strum it, just simply run your hoof over it like you’re picking at a scab.”

Octavia looked disgusted at the analogy Instrum made. “Scabs are gross,” she gagged.

Instrum laughed. “Alright… forget the scab remark and go ahead and try it.” He cringed a little, waiting for the terrible sound to ring out of the instrument.

Octavia strummed the guitar hard and as expected, out came a blunt tone. It could not be classified as a sound, she strummed all at once, really hard and to make matters worse, she wasn’t holding down the strings properly.

“No, no, no… Octavia you have to press down on the strings tightly so that they’re pressed against the neck, here, let me show you.” Instrum extended his hooves forward asking for the guitar.

Octavia complied and gave him the guitar. She observed him carefully as he pressed down on the strings with his left hoof and strummed with his right. The sound emanating from the guitar sounded like a tune from heaven. The room filled with the sound of just light breathing and a soothing tone with a hint of country.

Instrum stopped playing and gave the guitar back to the little one. She resumed the position she had the guitar in before the interruption. She pressed down harder on the strings and her tongue came peeking out of her mouth with the added exertion that was required. She lightly strummed the guitar this time but yet again, the sound was a little dull.

‘Her hooves are not strong enough it seems.’ Instrum thought. “Hmm alrighty then, enough of that, let’s move on to the violin, I’m sure you will like this one.” He took the guitar from her and placed it on the stand and brought out the violin with a bow for her size.

“The violin is very delicate and requires extreme care, it’s a little more difficult to play but the sound is amazing.”

Octavia took the violin hesitantly, as she was afraid that it might break just from holding it after what he just said. She didn’t know how to hold it, so she let out a small sigh, indicating failure thus-far. “No instrument has worked for me so far so what makes you think a delicate but harder instrument to play will be easier to learn?” she asked exasperated.

“It all depends on the pony – many have failed at playing the guitar but yet excelled at playing the violin. With the violin, it’s almost as if it becomes a part of your arms, a part of you. For example, I play the cello and I feel like it becomes a part of my body because of the way in which it has to be held – it merges into me as a part of me.”

Octavia tilted her head sideways and cocked an eyebrow; she was now confused and intrigued all at the same time by what he just said.

Instrum showed her how to hold the violin and the bow.

“Put your chin on the plastic piece here, then hold it outwards with your hoof using the tip to hold down the strings. They aren’t as tough to hold down this time, and you use the bow to lightly run it against the strings.” He helped her get into position and then added… “Remember, I said lightly run the bow against the strings.”

She readjusted the violin to hold it like he instructed and held the bow outwards in a horizontal line to the strings. She cleared her throat and ran the bow along the strings, letting out a low-toned screech. The sound was unbearable to her ears and to Instrum’s ears as she saw him hold his hooves over them.

“Tsk, I said lightly remember… you placed the bow too hard down on the strings, let up a bit on the pressure and try it again.”

“That was lightly,” she retaliated quickly, her mad face turned to a frown as she tried once more. Before playing she relieved some pressure off the strings and ran it across once more. To her delight the sound was sad and heavy as it should be. Instrum smiled at her and listened intently.

“Great! Now keep practicing. The thing about the violin is that you have to angle the bow in different ways to hit the various strings to get various sounds.”

As Instrum finished talking Octavia already had gotten the hint and began to ‘fiddle’ with the violin. Roughly ten minutes passed with her playing, when all of a sudden her shoulder and arm started to get tired and hurt a little.

“I need to take a break, this instrument is hard to keep up,” she moaned. Octavia looked at him with her big light purple eyes, imploring him to let her get up and walk around so that she could explore.

“Well go ahead, no one’s stopping you.” He could see that she was getting tired and frustrated at not having found her true instrument yet, in fact… he was feeling the same way.

Octavia had a look of triumph in her eyes as she hopped off the stool and headed to the front of the store.

“Silly filly,” he murmured with a grin.

Instrum decided to tidy up the room and put the instruments away, as it was almost time for her parents to come and pick her up. He picked up the alto sax and brought it to the sink at the front of the room; he unlatched the mouthpiece and threw the reed in the garbage. He then ran the mouthpiece under warm water and got a bit of soap to clean it. The scent of the soap had an orange aroma to it and the scent filled his snout and began to almost overwhelm him. ‘I should be used to the smell by now’ he thought to himself. A hearty sneeze came and he now realized that he would have to wash everywhere that his sneeze spittle went. “Crap!” After he finished wiping everything down, he continued cleaning the alto sax by rubbing it down with the soap, a good rinse came next and then he had to make sure it was completely dry before he could screw it back onto the instrument. He then did the same procedure with the flute, with minor adjustments here and there because of the difference between the two instruments.

Instrum headed to the front of the store to find out what Octavia was up to. He found the young filly carefully examining the instruments in the shop.

“Find anything you like or would like to try?” Instrum asked curiously.

“No…” she said disappointed. “I can’t seem to find an instrument I enjoy or like. The violin was the only one so-far that I played well enough, but it still just didn’t feel right for me. I’m sorry I wasted your time,” she apologized whole-heartedly.

“There’s no need to apologize little one.” He walked over to the filly and placed his right fore-hoof on her shoulder. He took a moment to look deep into her light purple eyes – and at that moment… he saw it! He knew exactly what type of instrument she would play. He was ecstatic about it but didn’t want to tell her because it was too late in the evening and he didn’t want her overly excited before her bedtime. It would have to wait for another day.

Instead he said: “Just because you didn’t find anything today doesn’t mean that tomorrow won’t bring something new. It’s all a part of growing up, along the way you just have to go out and try it. If you don’t like it, quit. Nothing and no one should ever keep you from doing something you love.”

Octavia stared at him in awe. She’s always been told to do things by her parents and she’s been told that she has to become a musician.

“O-okay then, maybe I could tell you how I really feel… I really don’t feel like I want to be a musician,” her voice rose as the words came out from her, giving her a boost of confidence she never felt before so she continued: “I’m not sure what I want to do but when my parents keep telling me that I have to keep the family tradition going, I feel pressured and scared. Well, maybe I want to be different!” She stomped her hoof on the ground to show how much she meant what she said.

“That’s the spirit!” he encouraged. He saw that she needed to get her frustrations out but he also knew that no matter how much she protested now… that eventually she would find her way. Instrum looked up at the clock “Woe! We’re running thirty minutes overtime. Come to think of it, where are your parents? They should have been here by now.”

Octavia began to look worried and tired. She let out a yawn and smacked her lips to indicate that she’s getting really tired.

“Well, I’d say they’re just running a bit late. How would you feel about me writing a note for your mom and dad – I’ll stick it on the door and bring you home.
“Sure! Octavia agreed happily, with a huge tired smile.

Instrum went behind his counter and started to write the note: Tuner and Octave, this is to let you know that Octavia was getting tired and I decided to bring her home so that she could rest. I’ll have the butler and maids take care of her or, I’ll most likely wait for your return. He signed it and grabbed the tape to stick it to the front door window. He got some last minute close- up things done before he headed for the door to lock up, but before he left – he grabbed his cello and threw it on his back making sure it was securely in place. With that all done, they headed off to Octavia’s house, which was about a thirty minute walk.

Octavia noticed the case on his back and asked him about it.

“It’s my cello – the one that I told you about earlier, remember? I never leave home without it!”

Octavia found his explanation a little odd, but then again…

It was getting close to nightfall, the sun barely over the horizon, illuminating the sky in an ominous red color. A chill ran down Instrum’s back and he automatically thought: ‘bad omen’. The streets were fairly empty as it was nearing the end of the day and most ponies go to sleep around this time. The dangers of walking alone at night though, can be quite high. He wasn’t worried about their safety because he knows all the routes nearby and because it’s not quite time yet for crime to stir. He and Octavia walked side-by-side, occasionally playing the taxi carriage game. They have to spot as many taxi carriages as possible and yell out the number of people they can see in the carriage before the other person can and you get one point every time you yell first.

The city was rather quiet, aside from the honking of carriages going by and the occasional conversation between people on the street. The buildings towered above them on both sides and the lights lit up the night sky tremendously. The lights were amazing but there was one drawback about so many lights – you could never see the stars like you could when you were out in the country.

Thirty minutes passed and they arrived at Octavia’s mansion. A large gate stopped anypony from entering the grounds without an invitation or speaking into the large speaker box. In-order to speak into the box to let somepony know that you are there; you had to press a big red button in the middle of the box. Instrum pressed the button and waited… a few minutes later a familiar older gruff male voice came on.

“Philharmonica residence, how may I help you?” asked Kordin Bowtie, the butler.

“Hi Kordin, it’s me Instrum, and I am here with Octavia. Tuner and Octave were supposed to pick up Octavia at my shop but they seem to be running late so I thought I would bring her home, she’s getting tired and wants to go to bed. Have the Philharmonica’s arrived home yet?”

“… No, sir, they did not. I shall let you and the young miss in though to await their arrival.” The mock voice didn’t help the worry-some feeling encumbering the two to them.

With a loud click and alarm, the gate unlocked and slowly opened, revealing the huge garden and the mansion looming ahead. Although Instrum had visited on many occasions, the grandness of the gardens always astonished him. Rows upon rows of lilies, tulips and lilac bushes and all around were statues and fountains placed in just the right spot for the eyes to see the beauty in it all.

Instrum and Octavia walked toward the mansion, ‘even the mansion is magnificent to behold’ thought Instrum. Octave had told him about the history of the mansion; that it had been built in the mid 1800’s and that it took a lot of years before it was completed because of the massive size of the place and all the intricate detailing work that had been done. The pillars that connected from the ground to hold up the substantial pony-run carriage port roof were a perfect example of this. She told him that they had to remove the old front door because it had the crest of the original family on it, so she requisitioned for a new one with her own crest.

The new door was made of mahogany and it now housed the Philharmonica family crest, which was; two ponies in a symmetrical form holding cellos; with a lion resting on the top of the coat-of-arms and lastly, a big treble clef in the center of the shield.

Instrum was about to reach for the treble clef door-knocker, when the door opened and Kordin bowed and moved back to allow them entrance. Without a word, Kordin closed the door and guided them towards the sitting room on the left of the doorway.

Octavia yawned; said hello to Kordin and slowly made her way into the sitting room.

Instrum took a few minutes to take in the scene before him (as he always did when entering the mansion). “My, my…” he said as he looked down at the marble floor and then up at the top-notch crown moldings made by the finest carpenters. The sparkling light from the crystal chandelier cascaded onto the walls and over the matching staircases on either side of the main foyer giving it an almost kaleidoscope look to it.

Kordin made an “uh, um” sound as if to clear his throat to catch Instrum’s attention. “You may wait in here for the masters to return.”

“Alright, thank you Kordin.” Instrum bowed lightly and headed inside, he removed his cello from his back and placed it against the wall near the window. He saw Octavia sitting on one of the couches so he sat on the one opposite her.

Octavia sat there, staring off at nothing, eagerly awaiting her parents return. She started to clap her fore-hooves together in an attempt to entertain herself.

The room was fairly cozy and featured two small couches and an armchair surrounding a coffee table. Instrum could tell that Kordin had just lit the fire in the fireplace because there was still just a hint of chill in the air. The marble floor from the foyer continued on into the sitting room, but this room had a large antique carpet blanketing the center, which made it warmer on the feet.

Instrum was just starting to try and think of something to do or say, when he was saved by the buzz of the front gate.

Kordin came to the front entrance and said his usual greeting of: “Philharmonica residence, how may I help you?”

“This is the Manehattan Police, is there someone home that we could talk to in private regarding an important matter, concerning Mr. and Mrs. Philharmonica?”

Kordin knew that when the police came to your front door, that it could not be good news. “Yes sir, please make your way up to the front door and I will have you speak with Mr. Winstrum.”

Kordin immediately went to the sitting room and motioned for Instrum to come out to the foyer. Octavia was going to follow but Kordin asked the little miss to wait in the room. As Instrum walked into the foyer, Kordin closed the door to the sitting room. He whispered quietly and told Instrum what the police said.

Instrum’s gut immediately twisted into a knot and that’s when the knock on the front door came.

Kordin opened the door to see not one but two police officers standing there.

“Mr. Winstrum, I’m afraid we have some bad news, may we come in?” asked one of the officers.

“Yes, of course,” replied Instrum.

The officer addressed Instrum and Kordin and asked: “Are either of you blood related to the Philharmonica’s?”

Both answered: “No.”

“The only one here that is blood related is their daughter Octavia,” offered Instrum.

Octavia was trying to listen from behind the closed door but she couldn’t hear much of anything until someone said her name. She opened the door and slowly walked into the foyer. The officer that was taking the lead and doing all the talking bent down on his knees to Octavia’s height; looked into her eyes and asked: “Do you have any uncles, aunts or any other family member in the house that we can talk to?”

“No,” she replied.

“Alright then, we’ll talk with your friend here. Is there someplace where we could sit down and talk?” asked the officer.

“Yes, please have a seat in the sitting room and I’ll be right with you,” replied Instrum.

Instrum bent down to Octavia and said: “I think it’s time you went to bed, no need to keep you up. When your mom and dad arrive I’ll wake you up, okay?” Instrum tried to hide the uncertainty in his voice from Octavia, but even he could feel the intensity in the air slowly growing.

“A-alright, good night Instrum, good night Kordin,” Octavia said sweetly. She ran off to her room frowning all the way. She could feel the cold marble floors beneath her feet which didn’t contribute any better to the situation; she wanted to know what was going on and why the police were here.

Instrum waited until he saw that Octavia was all the way up the stairs before he entered the sitting room and closed the door behind him. “So, what’s wrong officers?” he asked, even though he had a feeling that he knew why the officers were there.

Octavia didn’t go to bed, she knew something was wrong, so she slowly made her way back down the stairs and opened the sitting room door a crack to reveal the officers and Instrum talking.

She heard the officer say: “We… really don’t know how to tell you this…” the officer hesitated and then continued with: “We received a report two hours ago and um…” he paused again trying to think desperately of a way to break it to him gently.

“Well? What happened? Tell me!” Instrum growled impatiently.

“The Philharmonica’s were killed by muggers in the back alley of the Stallion Theatre about an hour ago. We had received a report about strangers hanging around in the area but we were short staffed today and didn’t get there on time to prevent this from happening. Please accept our apology and our deepest sympathies on your loss.”

Instrum’s eyes grew wide and began to well up with tears; a river flowed down his cheeks from both sides. A slight chill ran up his back, he looked to the fire for warmth but even that was no longer comforting. Instrum’s heart raced and his breathing became unsteady, but he realized that he had to remain calm; he had to think clearly – for Octavia’s sake.

“T-t-then, w-what about Octavia?” Instrum managed to ask.

“If she doesn’t have any immediate family or someone that she can stay with, then she will have to go to the orphanage,” the officer replied.

“M-mom, d-dad, O-o-orphanage!?” cried Octavia from outside the room.

Instrum’s jaw dropped, his face filled with sorrow as he saw Octavia burst into the room trembling and sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s not true… mom and dad are not dead, I’m going to find them and I’m not going to any orphanage” she yelled hysterically and bolted for the front door.

Instrum reacted immediately and went after the little filly. “Octavia, wait!”

Instrum caught up with her at the front gate. He brought her in close to his chest and wrapped the little filly in his fore-legs. He could feel her choppy breathing and her heart pounding a mile a minute. Instrum and Octavia held each other tight and cried together, the tears and sobs forming to no end.

Eventually the two calmed down although still heartbroken and sad. Instrum took a hoof and wiped away the tears from Octavia’s face and brought the little filly back into the house.

The two officers were standing in the foyer when they got in. The officer that hadn’t spoken a word all night, finally said: “Little Miss, I knew your parents fairly well and I can honestly say that they were very fine people, they will be deeply missed.” Both officers removed their hats in honor of her parents. “Please let us know if there is anything that we can do for you or anything that you need.”

Instrum knew that without saying it, that the officer was talking about making arrangements for Octavia at the orphanage so… with the utmost conviction he said: “I’ll take care of Octavia, if that’s okay with her.” He looked down at Octavia with her red swollen eyes and waited for her reply.

Through her sniffles she weakly replied with a little “yes” and a nod of her head.

“Very well then,” said the first officer. They said good night and walked outside towards the gate.

Instrum closed the front door and said to Octavia. “I’d say it’s quite time for bed wouldn’t you?”

She quickly nodded her head and Instrum took her to her room. He went in and set her on her bed; tucked her in and turned on the night light.

“Good night Octavia, sweet dreams.” Instrum smiled and turned to leave the room.

“Good night Uncle Instrum.” Octavia said with a small smile.

Instrum’s heart exploded with delight at her calling him Uncle, but the memory of her parents passing, quickly took over. He smiled at her and closed the door behind him, and made his way down the stairs and back into the sitting room. A frown quickly overtook his face and the tears started to flow again. “Why? Why them? Why to her?” he just couldn’t understand the senselessness of it all. He knew that the Philharmonica’s would have given the muggers the money freely, so why did they have to kill them. He knew that he would never get the answers to these questions and he had to do something or he would drive himself mad with unanswerable questions. He remembered that he had brought his cello with him so he went to the window to retrieve it. He sat back down on the couch and unlatched the case. Inside was a marvelous cello. The maple wood felt smooth to the touch and the ebony tuning pegs accented the wood with their beauty, the neck - which was made of spruce allowed for better sound quality and the top quality strings contributed to such a factor. Instrum took the cello and bow out of the case and placed them on the couch. He removed a CD from an inside pocket in the case and popped the CD into the CD player that sat on top of the fireplace, he put it in and(play music).

Instrum followed along with the cello’s part flawlessly, the melody gentle, yet sad. A tear rolled down his cheek as he played the cello in harmony with the mood. Nothing moved or stirred as he played this lovely tune (stop music).

“Uncle Instrum?” A familiar little voice can be heard in the doorway.

“Yes Octavia?” He lowered his bow and directed his attention to the young filly.

“I can’t sleep”, she said tiredly.

“Alright little one, go back to bed and I’ll be up in a minute with my cello. I’ll play you something to help you get to sleep okay?”

Octavia nodded her head and headed back to her room.

Instrum packed up the cello, bow and CD; he then grabbed the CD player and headed up to Octavia’s room. He walked into her room and saw that she had already tucked herself into bed so he placed the CD player on her dresser; plugged it in and set everything up to play.

He chose a different song from the CD – one that was more like a lullaby tune than the gentle sad one he had played downstairs. The song had a ‘sweet dreams’ soothing melody.

He saw Octavia start to drift off to sleep, as hard as she tried – she could not keep her eyes open. Emotional exhaustion finally overtook the heartbroken filly. He finished the song (stop music) and packed up his cello, leaving the case open, not wanting to wake her up with the loud click that the latches make. He almost made it out of the room when he was very surprised to hear her stirring.

“Ugh… Instrum?” she mumbled.

“Yeah?” he responded.

“Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.” She said pouting.

Instrum was hesitant at first, he knew that others would think it inappropriate, but considering the events and that fact that she needed to be comforted after the loss of her parents, he thought it best not to oppose.

“Sure” he said peacefully.

Octavia smiled and moved over to allow room for Instrum. Instrum moved the blanket over and covered her completely so that he would sleep on the other side without being under the blanket with her. She immediately cuddled up to him; he wrapped a foreleg around her shoulder and rested his head on hers. Her hair smelled like black licorice, ‘such an appropriate smell for a young filly,’ he thought. He noticed that her breathing became steady and rhythmic, which meant that she was now peaceful and calm.

“Thanks Uncle Instrum,” she said quietly.

Instrum felt a warm emotion cross over him and a smile governed his face from ear-to-ear. He gave her a quick hug and started to drift off to sleep.

The moon's brightness illuminated the room with warming rays of light. The night sky for tonight, and tonight only, was visible in the city, stars littered the sky magnificently. That night, not a single thing stirred, a peaceful rest at last.

Next Morning

Instrum opened his eyes; sat up in bed and felt like the morning had come way too fast, he was still a little groggy; his throat felt sore and his eyes were crusty from having cried so much. He plopped back down but couldn’t feel Octavia in the bed, his eyes shot open and then his ears began to function. Across the room was Octavia playing the cello, she had her eyes closed and the melody was beautiful, befitting that of last night’s mood. The sound travelled ever so lightly through Instrum’s ears and serenaded him with joy.

“How did…” he paused a moment because something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He looked around the room to see if anything was amiss. Then his eyes fixed on the object. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the haze and looked again, it was shaped like a treble clef and colored light purple like her eyes. “Octavia, you got your cutie mark… how wonderful, and from my cello to boot!” Taking a moment to process this event, he looked to her for an explanation.

“Isn’t it exciting?!” When I heard you play your cello last night, I wanted to try it because it sounded amazing and cool, but I was too tired. So… this morning I picked up the bow and wham, I got my cutie mark!” Octavia was overjoyed and happy.

Instrum was pleased to see her happy for the moment because he knew that soon enough…

“Do you know who gave me that instrument?” Instrum smiled wildly, like a happy puppy. “Your mother gave that instrument to me. On the back of the cello is the name Andrea Amareti, correct?”

Octavia slowly turned the instrument around to get a look at its back. Sure enough the name Andrea Amareti is engraved into the wood.

“Andrea made this?!” Octavia looked shocked.

“Well yeah, as you know… she makes all kinds of instruments, but she specializes in stringed instruments specifically. Your mother was good friends with Andrea so she asked if she would make two cellos for her, one for herself and one for you. The one you’re holding now is the one that your mother asked me to take care of for you, until the day you became of age, which turns out to be yesterday.”

Octavia was still in a state of shock and couldn’t say a word for quite some time, finally she spoke up. “This is mine!? I actually get to keep this one…?”

Instrum could see how excited she was and merely nodded with a huge smile.

“I’ll let you in on two little secrets… your mom knew that you would play this instrument from the day that you were born, that’s why she had two of them made, but it wasn’t until yesterday when we were about to leave my shop that I knew for sure that you would play it as well. It wasn’t until I looked deep into your eyes that I saw it and that was why I brought the cello here. I was hoping that I would have a little time to play it for you before your parents got home but…” Instrum didn’t need to finish the sentence.

Octavia was emotionally confused, she didn’t know if she should be happy about getting her mark and finding out about what her mom did for her, or sad that her mom and dad weren’t here to celebrate this momentous event.

Instrum could see her whole expression and posture change so he quickly helped to bring her back to the moment of happiness, at least for a little while longer.

“Octavia, it’s okay to be happy about this, it’s what your parents have wanted for you for a long time and right now… I know that they are overjoyed for you as well.”

That’s all the encouragement Octavia needed. She danced around the room happily; ran over and hugged Instrum; put the CD in the CD player and then sat down with the cello and began to practice.

Instrum said with a smile: “You keep practising and I’ll be back in a little while to see how you are doing.” Instrum frowned as he exited the room and headed down to Tuner’s office to make a few calls. He made calls to: the police department; the Philharmonica’s lawyer; the mortician; the funeral director; the newspaper - to place the obituary notice and finally… the Philharmonica’s closest friends (this part was the hardest). He also called in a favor from an old friend to watch the shop for him while he was taking care of Octavia and all the formalities involved. His friend was more than happy to help him out in such a time of need.

He had set up the funeral to take place in two days’ time at the Manehattan Cemetery. Mr. Brief, the Philharmonica’s lawyer made an appointment with him and Octavia for 4:00 pm that night to go over the last will and testament.

Instrum took a few minutes to compose himself before he went back upstairs to Octavia. He stood in the doorway and watched and listened as she played the song flawlessly. Suddenly an idea popped into his head.

When Octavia finished playing he said: “Octavia, it seems that this cello was made for you, you’re the only filly I know that could master a song and instrument that fast. It took me a year to master that song and it only took you a few hours, how wonderful! I think that your parents would love it if you were to play a song in memory of them at their funeral. What do you think; would you be up to it?”

Tears came to her eyes again but she forced them back and nodded her head in agreement to his question. She continued practising for all of two seconds when Instrum noticed that she was distracted, like she was thinking about something. A few moments pass and Octavia stopped playing. She looked down at the ground with a saddened look on her face. Octavia leaned the cello against the wall but then she let the bow drop out of her hoof and it hit the ground hard. Octavia collapsed and started to cry heavily, tears forming rivers and flowing down in defeat. Instrum rushed over to the young filly and cradled her in his forelegs, her tears soaking his chest and her breathing became jittery once again. All he could do was to be there for her and hold her tightly. He rocked her back and forth again repeating “Shh… shh”, over and over to calm her.

Through the watery eyes and jittery mouth, she said to Instrum weakly, “I miss them so much,” she sniffed once, and continued to cry uncontrollably.

“I know you do… so do I…” Instrum barely held back the tears, but he had to be strong for her.

Later that day while Instrum was in the sitting room enjoying the cozy fireplace, the buzzer of the front gate rang once again. Instrum heard it and instantly cringed. ‘Later… I will have to make sure that I get a contractor here to change the ring tone of the buzzer so that it won’t be a constant reminder of the fateful day that the police came with the bad news,’ he thought to himself.

Kordin went to the front door and pressed the intercom button and started to say his usual, “Phil…” and stopped. “Hello, Miss Octavia’s residence, how may I help you?” he said instead.

“Hello, I’m Mr. Brief – Mr. Winstrum and Octavia are expecting me.”

“Come in please” replied Kordin.

Instrum came to the front door and asked Kordin to make some coffee, tea and hot chocolate with some fresh baked biscuits on the side. “I will see to Mr. Brief and get Octavia.”

“Yes sir, as you wish sir,” was Kordin’s reply.

Mr. Brief was led into the sitting room and Instrum told him that it would take just a few minutes to get Octavia.

Instrum finally found Octavia in her parent’s room lying down on their bed. She was tightly hugging the pillow that her mother used, while resting her head on her father’s pillow.

Octavia was reluctant to go with Instrum but he told her that this was important and that she had to be a little more grown up for today so that these details could be taken care of.

Octavia slowly left the room and headed to the sitting room to find Mr. Brief with all the papers laid out in front of him on the table.

The formalities of all the legal jargon was hard for Olivia to keep up with, but the hot chocolate and biscuits made things a little less boring.

Instrum was very surprised but pleased that Octave and Tuner had declared him as legal guardian for Octavia in the event of their passing. All assets regarding the property, money, college or university for Octavia – everything was taken into account and taken care of. Mr. Winstrum could even move into the home and appoint a full time caregiver for Octavia for the times when he was unable to be there – for example: while he was taking care of the store on weekends and any such holiday when Octavia was home from school or otherwise.

After all the papers were signed and sealed, Octavia headed back upstairs to her parents room and closed the door behind her.

Instrum led Mr. Brief to the front door and shook hands goodbye. Mr. Brief gave his condolences and told Instrum that he would definitely be attending the funeral.

**** Two days went by - with the same routine. Octavia would lock herself in her room and practice or she would go into her parent’s room and just lay on the bed. Instrum knew that she needed her grieving time and that she would grieve in her own way so he gave her, her space but still let her know that he was there if she needed him. Whenever Octavia would go to her room to practice, Instrum would stand outside her door and listen. Both nights however, he could hear Octavia cry herself to sleep. ****

Saying Goodbye

“Octavia let’s go, we don’t want to be late!” Instrum beckoned.

“Coming!” Octavia yelled from upstairs.

He readjusted his tie for the third time and checked for the fourth time to make sure he had his speech in memory of the Philharmonica’s in his right front pocket, all the while making a mental check-list to make sure that everything was taken care of. ‘I’m dressed; Octavia is dressed; the Limo is waiting outside; the flowers are ordered; the food has been ordered and the caterer has confirmed that everything is ready to be set up; both cellos are in the Limo – check, check and double check! I hope I haven’t forgotten anything.’

Kordin had heard Instrum yelling for Octavia so he came to the front to see if there was anything he could do to help. “Sir, is there anything that I can help with?”

“Thank you Kordin but I think I have everything ready. Will you be ready to go with us in about five minutes?” he asked.

“Thank you sir for the invitation to ride with you – you are very kind but I will be taking my own carriage so that I can leave on time to be here for the caterer and when everyone arrives after the funeral.”

“Oh yes, of course! Thank you for your assistance Kordin. I will see you later.”

Instrum heard Octavia clomping around upstairs and was going to yell for her again when he saw her come out of her mother’s bedroom.

Octavia came stumbling down the stairs with an envelope in her mouth and brought it to Instrum. On the front of the envelope, it had his name on it.

“It’s addressed to you, from my mom,” she said excitedly.

“Me? What for?” he questioned.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before,” she replied. “I wanted to wear mom’s favorite brooch with my dress for today and when I opened her jewelry box – there it was!”

Instrum carefully opened the letter and read the contents out loud for Octavia to hear. His throat choked up before he even started to read it and when he did start to read it, his voice echoed through the main hall.

[i ]Dear Instrum,

This letter is addressed to you in the off chance that we pass away earlier than expected. I wish to thank you for being our long and trusted friend throughout our lives. It’s great to have someone we can rely on, on our deathbed. As you may already know (if the Will has already been read) we have asked that you be Guardian to Octavia in our absence. I know it’s a lot to ask, but please do this for us and for her, I know that the two of you will grow to love each other as much as we have loved the two of you.

As per our discussion of many years ago concerning the cello that we entrusted to you, please make sure that Octavia receives her cello by the age of six. I know that there is a possibility that she may end up resonating with a different type of instrument, but I just have a strong feeling, that the cello is what she is meant to play. Whatever way she chooses, I would still like her to have it.

I also have a very nice surprise for you… I would like you to have my cello as a ‘thank you’ for all that you have done for us or will do for Octavia. My cello is in my bedroom in my closet. I would be very happy if you would accept it as a gift from me. I know that you will take care of it and cherish it as much as I have.

Goodbye old friend! I wish you and Octavia all the love and happiness in the world.

Octavia Philharmonica xoxoxo

Instrum started to well up again and couldn’t believe what he was reading. All he could choke out was: “Goodbye old friend,” he looked at Octavia and whispered: “I will take care of her and love her with all my heart.”

Octavia ran into his arms and gave him a big hug and smiled up at him in gratitude. She stared into his eyes and could see his pain and he could see her pain as well.

Instrum slipped the letter into his inside pocket and motioned for them to get going. He locked the door behind him. When they got to the Limo, the driver ran to open the carriage door for them. As they drove to the Church, they didn’t say anything to each other, they simply looked out the window.

Even before they reached the church, they could see that the streets were flooded with pony-carriages from all over, the church was so packed full that ponies were lined up all the way down the street. It seemed that the whole city came to the funeral for the Philharmonica’s.

When Octavia stepped out of the Limo she was swamped with ponies giving their condolences. Instrum politely told them that they had to get inside because the proceedings were going to start. They made their way to the front pews for immediate family.

Octavia was surprised to see the church filled with lilies, tulips and lilacs in beautiful vases everywhere. Right in front of her were the coffins of her parents, which quickly put her into tears.

Instrum held her and looked at the coffins that he had specially made for the Philharmonica’s. They were both made of mahogany and housed the Philharmonica family crest of two ponies in a symmetrical form holding cellos; with the lion resting on the top of the coat-of-arms and lastly, but most importantly was the big treble clef in the center of the shield. On top of each coffin was a single picture, one of Tuner and one of Octave. Between the two coffins was a small table with a small centerpiece of flowers and a picture of the two of them together.

The priest gave a lovely sermon and ended with asking anyone if they would like to say a few words.

Instrum went up to say a few words. He removed his speech from his pocket and cleared his throat and began: “Mr. and Mrs. Philharmonica have been friends of mine since we were but foals, we’ve always been together. I didn’t prepare much to say so I will keep it short and sweet. They were always there for me in my time of need and I there for them. The night of their death, they had attended a play and had left Octavia in my care. Little did I know that it would be forever, but I know one thing is for certain I’m glad that they trusted me to take care of her. I, to this day declare on their deathbeds that I shall continue to be the parenting figure that they represented. Thank you.”

Instrum stepped down to allow a few others to say a few words. Many were about how the Philharmonica’s have helped them and that if their daughter needed anything, she should but ask and they will help. It was reassuring for Octavia to know how much support she had. Octavia finally gained the courage to go up herself and say a few words.

She brought her cello up with her and prepped it for playing. Instrum plugged in the CD player and put the song in, pressing play when she gave the signal.

“I don’t have much to say, so I’ll play a song instead… with my Uncle Instrum accompanying me.” Octavia smiled, teary eyed, and looked at Instrum.

Instrum couldn’t resist such a smile and asked if someone could press play when he gave the signal, so he as well could set up his cello. Both cellos looked exactly the same. The Twin Cellos stood in front of a massive audience, all of which were in awe to the craftsmanship their eyes were witnessing. Instrum gave the queue to press play, (optional length, stop whenever you like). Octavia began with the lead and played precisely as the CD did, no flaw in her playing was audible, but everyone saw the sadness in her eyes. Instrum shortly joined her as the two now played in perfect harmony as The Twin Cellists. One would not be complete without the other. The song required two and was immensely complex, but was played perfectly in memorial to the Philharmonica’s.

Eventually they stopped playing as the CD stopped, the song ended. Octavia looked up into the crowd and into everyone’s eyes. At the back in the doorway stood a pony that was known to be famous for one thing… creating instruments. Andrea Amareti smiled and walked out of the church, as to where, Octavia did not know. Instrum put a fore hoof on Octavia’s shoulder, smiled, and looked at the church doorway. A blinding white light blocked it, as if heaven’s door was open. For what he saw was Mr. and Mrs. Philharmonica standing right where Andrea had been only moments before. Tuner and Octave smiled proudly.

Silently… Octave mouthed ‘Thank you’.