A single cloud drifted across the starry night sky as a former first-chair cellist walked through the city park. All night long, she could’ve sworn that cloud was following her. But that’s not possible unless a pegasus was up there guiding it, Octavia thought. The only pegasus she knew that would follow her in such a manner was out of town on weather pony business, and not supposed to be back until next month.
Oh, how Octavia missed her marefriend. It had been a couple weeks since they were last together, enjoying one another’s company under a starry night sky, such as the one this evening. A great void filled her stomach at the thought of her beloved marefriend. She was in Canterlot to prevent a wild thunderstorm from assaulting the majestic capital.
Every night since Raindrops left, Octavia has been plagued with nightmares about all the horrific things that could have befallen her marefriend. Being blown off course only to be impaled by a branch. Her body being sent into shock by a violent lightning strike, leaving her unable to prevent herself from plummeting to her demise. Octavia knew these were only dreams, but they just simply felt too real.
The fact that very few on-the-job casualties ever happened did nothing to help calm her worried mind. What if her last night with Raindrop really was her last? Giving herself a violent shake, Octavia pushed the thought aside. She promised she would come back, Octavia reminded herself. It wasn’t like Raindrops to go back on a promise, for the only pony who could match her in loyalty was the Element of Loyalty herself.
Looking back up at the lone cloud, Octavia couldn’t help but to let a wistful thought pop into her mind. What if her Raindrops was up on that cloud, stalking her like all those many months ago. A searing needle pierced Octavia’s heart at the thought of her that horrible evening. The night they destroyed her cello; the same night she meet Raindrop. Both the best yet worst night of her entire life.
Shaking her head solemnly, Octavia turned her attention back to her surroundings, continuing on her midnight journey to The Fillies Delight.The only club with a halfway decent glass of wine in town, Octavia mused. Filled with both happy and sad memories of the past, it was also home to an old friend. Every week, Octavia visited his club and a letter from Raindrops would be waiting with him. Octavia always found it amusing how her marefriend could somehow remember the address of a club, but not the one for her own home.
Last time Octavia visited the club, the owner, Royal Crescent, said his mother was supposed to be visiting tonight. She had tried her best to wheedle the information out of him about who she was, what she was like, and that sort of nonsense, but he never gave away a word about her. It only made Octavia more curious as to her identity, and gave her all the more reason to attend tonight's events.
Branches of the park’s grand oak trees clattered together in the gentle breeze as the evening cries of one of the parks many owls cooed into the night air. The symphony of nature always amazed Octavia. Never did it grow old, for it was never the same. Yet it was ever peaceful, capable of weaving emotion into its masterpieces better than the most legendary composers ever to live. Even the great composer Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata cannot create the same feeling of despair as nature.
Octavia could stay there all night listening, but she had another place to be at the moment. Picking up her pace, Octavia hurried towards her destination under the light of the full moon. It used to be said if the full moon is shining above, then Nightmare Moon is not far off. But those are nothing more than bedtime stories to keep foals in their beds at night. It’s all just a silly fairy tale. Either way, the moonlight illuminated the small dirt paths of the park.
Within twenty minutes, Octavia was standing in front of The Fillies Delight. Electronic music was blaring into the once-peaceful night air. Tonight must be a busy night, Octavia thought as she saw a line of ponies rounding the block, all waiting to be granted entrance into the club. Since Octavia was granted V.I.P. status because she knows the owner of the club, she got to skip to the front of the line. As she walked past the mares and stallions waiting in line, several hissed at her to get to the back of the line, but Octavia ignored them and went on her way.
Stopping in front of a huge white mammoth of a bouncer, Octavia told him her name. After checking the list, the stallion stepped aside and opened the door for her.
"You're letting that wash up in before us?" came a snotty remark from a mare in the back of the line, causing Octavia to look over her shoulder to find the mare who spoke up. "She's nothing more than a filthy commoner!"
"Well dearest, I guess you're right." Octavia said calmly, after spotting the mare in the back of the line. "But this filthy commoner has V.I.P. status, while you do not. So I’m afraid social rank isn't everything.”
After seeing the flustered look on the mares face, Octavia gave a polite smile and trotted off through the open door only to be hit by an invisible wall of sound. Caught unprepared, it merely stunned her, but she got over it quickly enough. The music was louder than normal, almost deafening. How Royal Crescent still has his hearing was beyond Octavia. Ear plugs perhaps, but it doesn't matter. Octavia would be out of here after checking in with Royal Crescent and grabbing a bottle of wine to go.
Walking down the wall of fame leading to the club itself, Octavia noticed a new portrait hanging from the walls. Stopping to look at it, Octavia took in the wild blue mane, the snowy body, and the royal purple sun glasses resting upon a short horn. But the feature that struck Octavia the most was the mares ruby red eyes. They were oddly captivating. Forcing herself to look away, Octavia pushed her way through the doors to the club.
If it wasn't for the blaring electronic music, the place would have been able to be a jazz club with its dark hardwood floors, maroon wallpaper, fabric hanging from the ceiling, and portraits of famous ponies who had visited the club in the past. While this attracted the upper-class ponies of the city, it also repelled most of the working class ponies. Maybe it's because the club sold mostly costly alcohol, or perhaps because the word "beer" or anything of its sorts wasn't allowed to be spoken of without being removed from the premises.
Whatever the reason, every pony wanted in tonight, seeing how Octavia had to force her way through a sea of bodies to get to the bar. Normally, Royal Crescent could be found helping the bartenders, if he wasn't introducing the next performer. Tonight shouldn't be an exception and it wasn't. The only thing Octavia found odd was a cello in a soft case sitting behind the counter beside a grinning Royal Crescent.
His short, deep purple mane spiked up in the front, a pair of black metal rimmed sunglasses resting on him handsome face, and a vest just a shade lighter than his own tan pelt. Octavia couldn't deny she was somewhat sexually attracted to Royal Crescent, but his personality threw her off. While he is a thoughtful stallion at times, he is also prone to being an asshat.
"Good evening Royal Crescent." Octavia said, as she took a seat at the bar. "Business seems to be well and good tonight."
"Very, very well," Royal Crescent agreed with childish glee.
"Got any new wines in?" Octavia asked, as she looked towards the stage to see the same mare she had noticed from the hall of fame in control.
"I believe we’ve got a couple bottles of clover wine left," Royal Crescent said, reaching down under the counter to grab something.
“That will do fine,” Octavia replied, stifling a yawn.
“Getting tired?” Royal Crescent asked, before disappearing under the counter.
“Possibly.” Octavia said, letting her eyes wandering back towards the cello.
“I suppose you’re here to see if a new letter came in,” Royal Crescent stated, coming out from under the counter, a single vanilla envelope in his mouth.
“Thank you.” Octavia said, gratefully, taking the letter from Crescent and opening.
“I have to go greet my mother when she arrives in town, pretty soon here I gotta go here,” Royal Crescent said, gesturing towards a yellow mare that was wiping the counter with a washcloth to come over. “This fine mare will see to your needs while I’m gone.”
Looking inside the envelope all Octavia saw was a piece of paper folded in half. Tipping the contents of the envelope onto the counter, Octavia quickly snatched up the piece of paper and hastily unfolded. She looked upon the unfolded paper to find a drawing.
Smiling to herself, Octavia flipped the drawing to see if anything was written on the back, and indeed there was. Three simple words: “Look up dear”.
Looking up at the bartender, Octavia could see the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. The rest of her face was cast in shadows as she poured two glasses of wine. Her heart pounding, Octavia reached up to take off the mare’s hat.
To Octavia, movement seemed to slow to nonexistence. What normally would’ve gone by in the blink of an eye, seemed to take an eternity. Her hoof trembled as she reached out to knock the hat off of the bartender's head.
The loud electronic music slowly dissipated, the soft sound of a haunting, yet romantic piano piece taking its place. The guests were baffled about the change in atmosphere until one stallion told them all to hush. Following his gaze, the crowd noticed Octavia’s trembling hoof as it hovered mere millimeters away from the bartender's hat. Swallowing lightly, Octavia gently pushed the hat off the bartender's head.
A moment of disbelief overtook Octavia as she stared up into the smiling face of her marefriend. Tears of joy welled up in the corners of her eyes as she flung her forelegs around her precious Raindrops. Hugging her tightly, as if she would disappear, silent tears of joy trickled down her cheeks onto Raindrops soft, yellow chest.
Their hair blew gently around them as it was buffeted by the soft breeze of Raindrops’ wings as she was gently lifting both ponies into the air. Tears began to fall from the eyes of both mares and stallions alike as they watched Raindrops whisper soft words of affirmation into Octavia's ear. Telling her this was not a dream, that this is really happening, she hugged the grey cellist closer to her chest.
Pulling her head back, Octavia looked up at her marefriend through blurry eyes and laid a gentle kiss upon her soft lips, but what began as a simple gesture quickly turned into a display of deep emotion. As Raindrops pulled from the kiss, she filled with emotion that none but Octavia and Raindrops would understand to its fullest extent.
Pulling away from the kiss, Raindrops gently touched her nose to Octavia's as she gradually lowered them to the ground. For a mere second, Octavia forgot all about where she was, and the ponies around her. A light chuckle escaped her throat when she saw Royal Crescent playing the piano with his eyes closed, smiling to himself. Octavia had no idea he could play the piano, let alone so beautifully.
Author's Note
Also don't forget to leave and thumbs up and a favorite if you're enjoying the story so far.
Chapter Two
A Late Birthday Party?
One by one, the crowd slowly begins to applaud. Not a loud applause like you would hear after a Wonderbolts performance, but a soft, polite one like you would hear after a Symphony Orchestra’s finale. Feeling Raindrop’s side no longer pressed against hers, Octavia turned around to see what her marefriend was up to, but by the time Octavia had turned around, Raindrops was already making her way back to her, holding the cello Octavia had seen from earlier, the handle of its case in between her teeth.
“Happy late birthday,” Raindrops said cheerfully, setting the cello down before Octavia. “I’m sorry you didn’t get your present on your actual birthday, but I wanted to give it to you myself.”
Octavia couldn’t say a single word as tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes for the second time this evening as she stared down at the cello.
“I know this cello can never replace the one that was in your family for generations, but it dates back to the time of Discord, or at least that’s what Princess Celestia said,” Raindrops continued, as she suppressed a tiny giggle as Octavia gave her a look of sheer disbelief.
"But how’d you afford it?” Octavia asked, unable to believe what she was hearing as Royal Crescent got up from the piano bench and disappeared into a backroom.
“I won it in a game of cards against the Princess!” Raindrops said excitedly, her eyes lighting up with a foalish glee. “The Princess even said there isn’t a single other cello like it in the whole of Equestria!”
“Then why is it not in a hard case!?!?” Octavia demanded, horrified that such an instrument would be in such a flimsy soft cello case. They may protect against dust and scratches, but that's it.
“Happy Birthday 'Tavi!” Royal Crescent exclaims a little too excitedly, making Octavia jump with a squeal as he placed a long present box on the bar counter. “Come on. Open it already!”
Giving the tan stallion a questioning look, Octavia began trying to unwrap her present. At first, she couldn’t seem to be able to tear the wrapping paper, but just as Octavia was about to give up, the faint noise of someone snickering caught her ear. Turning around to see who was laughing, Octavia spotted Royal Crescent laying on the ground holding his sides attempting not to break out into a fit of laughter. How immature, Octavia thought to herself while awaiting for Royal Crescent to get ahold of himself. After waiting a good five minutes, Octavia turned back to study the wrapping paper. Giving her head a small shake, she realized that the wrapping paper really wasn’t wrapping paper at all; instead the present was covered in a thin layer of colorful plastic instead of paper.
Octavia had to wait for Royal Crescent to get over himself before receiving a pair of scissors to cut through the “wrapping paper”. Thankfully, it was just a plain old cardboard box, not another one of Royal Crescent's supposed “practical” jokes. lifting the cardboard box, Octavia gasped in astonishment.
A beautiful, snowy white hard cello case stood glistening in the clubs dim lighting. A picture of the Equestrian flag was painted in the middle, above a bold-lettered warning sign: “Anyone but this cello's respected owner will be punished to the fullest extent of the law if they touch this cases contents without the owners sole permission!”.
“It’s made of titanium alloy, with an airtight seal, and it was the cello's display case in the Royal Sisters castle,” Royal Crescent stated simply, walking up next to Octavia while smiling to himself. “Should be able to protect your cello shaped firewood.”
Ignoring Royal Crescent's last remark, Octavia threw her arms around his neck to pull the stallion into a hug. She landed a quick peck on Royal Crescent’s cheek before letting him go. He blushed like the morning sun and his legs locked, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto the ground.
Octavia let a small giggle pass her lips as she looked down at the happy stallion.
“Did you kill him?” Raindrops asked, as she came up to her marefriend’s side.
“I hope not,” Octavia says, turning her attention back to the cello case as Raindrops poked Royal Crescent experimentally, causing him to begin giggling to himself.
“Yep, he’s alive.” Raindrops announced, taking a step back from the giggling stallion.
Rolling her eyes, Octavia popped open the latches to the cello cases door and peeked inside. The interior was covered in a luxurious black silk. Two cello bows were latched to the inside of the door, one a practice bow and the other for performances, along with a scroll of parchment. Taking it in her hooves, Octavia unfurled the scroll and began to read.
Dear Octavia M. Rostropovich,
I hope this fine instrument brings you a lifetime of joy. This particular cello was played by the first-chair cellist named Sterling Strings of the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra, back when it first started. Much like yourself, Miss Strings started out in a small, virtually unknown, string quartet. Eventually, she became my court cellist, until she got offered a chance to join the Equestrian Symphony Orchestra.
She made her way through the ranks of the Symphony Orchestra quickly, just like you yourself did, and quickly found herself sitting in the former first-chair cellist’s spot. Naturally, she made enemies among her fellow cellists during her rise to fame. But the game of publicity was by far a different game from what it is is today, making it impossible for them to overthrow her from her spot as the first-chair cellist.
I hope this quick overview of this instruments history has helped you better understand the significance of the instrument you now possess.
Sincerely, Princess Celestia
“Hey Tavi?” Raindrops asked softly, her gaze fixed upon the scroll in between Octavia’s hooves. "Mind if I read your letter?”
“Not at all,” Octavia said, hoofing over the scroll to her marefriend. “May I open your present?”
"I’d be worried if you didn’t,” Raindrops said, giving Octavia a playful nudge. “Ummm...”
“Yes?” Octavia asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Where's Mister Giggles?’ Raindrops asked, pointing a hoof at the spot where Royal Crescent had been laying on the ground once upon a time.
“I... I really have no idea,” Octavia said, standing up as tall as she could, looking around for the strange stallion. "He was just here a sec-”
“Who wants cake?!” Royal Crescent asked loudly, rolling a cake worthy of Princess Celestia herself out from behind the performance stage. “Come one, come all, for there is plenty to go around.”
The crowd of ponies all began shifting towards where Royal Crescent was handing out small slices of cake while commenting on the cake itself.
While Octavia found the full grown stallion acting like a foal thoroughly entertaining, her marefriend did not. Instead, she looked at Royal Crescent as if he were breaking some sacred rule of the universe, which only furthered Octavia’s entertainment of the situation.
Leaving Raindrops to stare at the gleeful Royal Crescent like a deer if you shined a flashlight at it, Octavia trotted over to spot where the cello lay undisturbed. No matter how hard Octavia tried not to think about it, she kept wondering what was going through her marefriend’s mind when she decided to bring such a rare instrument all the way across Equestria in a soft cello case. Subduing a sigh, Octavia unzipped the case.
Gently lifting the cello out of its case, Octavia could feel the grain of the wood from which the instrument was made underneath the thin coating of varnish. Walking over to the hard case, Octavia gently place the cello into it. Securing the straps firmly, Octavia made sure to double check, and then triple check the straps to make sure none of them would come loose.
Stepping back, Octavia noticed a small amber emblem on the bottom right hoof corner of the cello. Looking closer, Octavia recognized the symbol as the symbol of the Solar Republic. Octavia had read books about the war between the Lunar Republic and the Solar Republic. If memory served her right, then there was nothing but a bunch of threats to wipe each other off the face of Equestria. Not what Octavia would call a war, but this cello must’ve been a part of the Solar Republic’s Orchestra or something for this instrument to have this symbol.
The symbol was created by melting the original varnish with alcohol or something, then slowly using an amber varnish to pain it onto the instrument. Octavia wouldn’t be surprised to find a similar symbol on the back of the cello as well. It was rare to find an original instrument with this symbol in a museum, while unheard of out of one. The Manehattan college of the Musical Arts had just purchased a violin with the same exact symbol for ten million bits for their museum.
Gently closing the cello’s case before anyone could see the instrument, Octavia let out a sigh wonderment. Daydreaming about what the cello would sound like when she will finally got the chance to pull a bow over the instrument’s strings, Octavia didn’t notice the piece of cake flying towards her until it made contact with the side of her head.
Touching the part of her head that had just been assaulted by a piece of cake, Octavia felt the cold, soft-serve ice cream against her warm hoof. Unsure whether to be angry or mildly entertained, Octavia looked up to see Raindrops glaring daggers at Royal Crescent. As a smile began to tug at the corner of her mouth, the foalish idea of throwing a piece of cake back at Royal Crescent popped into the back of Octavia’s mind.
Disregarding the idea, Octavia began to clean the cake off of the side of her head and out of her mane. This is not the place nor time to get revenge, best to get him when no one’s looking. Octavia thought to herself, but Raindrops apparently didn’t get the message. Just as Royal Crescent turned his back, Raindrop sent her piece of cake soaring through the air.
“Hey, Crescent!” Raindrop calls out, causing Crescent to catch the cake square in the face as he turned his head to answer her.
Octavia stifled a snicker as Royal Crescent took off his sunglasses, revealing his eyes. They were such a dark shade of brown they were almost black. The two stared at each other for a good long while before either one of them made a move. Slowly, Royal Crescent grabbed another piece of cake, without breaking eye contact between himself and Raindrop, who had picked up her plate to use as a shield.
“Come dearest,” Octavia yawned, before the two of them could cause any more trouble than they already had, as she put the cello case’s strap across her chest before carefully swinging it onto her back. “We’re leaving.”
Author's Note
Also don't forget to leave and thumbs up and a favorite if you're enjoying the story so far.
