"You can't leave." Longshot inclined an ear at Octavia. "Not yet, the way I figure. You owe me lessons and I will have them... You may not return."
Octavia shrank back. "How morbid..."
The taller sheriff/queen snorted. "Because you'll ascend back to your heavenly realm, untroubled by our petty struggles. And I want you to! But before then..." She pointed to the instrument. "You will turn that over, and I will know how to play it."
Octavia reached for the instrument, gently cradling it. "To give you full mastery would take years. I can only start you down the path and leave some sheet music to practice with. Let's focus on reading it, so you can work on that even without my presence."
Their departure was delayed on account of Longshot's demand that none had the heart to deny.
No Name shrugged when he heard it. "Never figured she was into music, but sure. Seein' as you paid back for the dust, she is payin' you, right? She owes you."
Vinyl nodded firmly. "Don't let her take advantage of you, even if she's nice."
Octavia waved the objections away. "I can handle myself, thank you."
Bullette bounced in front of Octavia, springing in from the side. "You should request supplies for the journey. She will agree due to friendship level attained."
Octavia twitched an ear at that. "You can tell what friendship level two other ponies have?"
"I can estimate." Bullette tilted her head left and right. "My scanners are not always certain. I can only speak with 100% accuracy when measuring my own friendship levels." She suddenly raised a hoof. "Warning: Friendship levels can be different in return. Optimal friendship performance is had when levels are in close proximity."
Vinyl snorted at that. "Longshot is all over you, 'Tavi. Talk about uneven friendship levels."
Octavia darkened red at the accusation. "I have not allowed any... such thing, nor has she requested it."
Vinyl wobbled a leg burdened by a LAP. "Yeah yeah, you're too proper and she's too polite, so that'll never happen. Doesn't mean she isn't completely bewitched by the 'Tavi. Can't blame her, she has good taste."
Octavia shook her head. "I'll complete what I promised, then we head out, and that's that." The group seemed to agree with her outline, and the topic was mercifully dropped.
She moved through the town in the early hours of the morning, when it was still just about as dark as night. With the sun hidden behind clouds, true day was slower in coming. Still, she could see just about good enough in the gloom to slowly make her way towards Longshot's office.
"Hey."
Octavia glanced to the left to see a pony, a mare, smiling at her. They were a full-sized pony, dressed in the makeshift clothes of the period.
"Sorry to bother you. You're the leader of that group, right?" She wobbled a hoof. "And a musician, and a spellcaster?"
Octavia did not know the pony, but she did not know most of the people who lived in Turves. "Most of that is correct, but I wouldn't call myself the 'leader' of our group. How can I help you, Miss...?"
"Modest too." The mare smiled brightly. "I represent some nice people who want to reward hard working wonderful ponies just like you."
Octavia hiked a brow at the stranger. "Reward?"
The mare nodded quickly. "Yes. In these tough times, ponies don't get what they deserve. You're such a good pony, we've heard the rumors."
"We?" She took a step forward past the mare. "I really should be going. I have an appointment with the sheriff."
"Of course."
Octavia moved past, feeling some relief before a sharp sting had her jumping away from the mare. She felt something painfully in her rump. A glance showed something protruding from her in the dark. "W-what?! Help!" she called out, knowing guards were scattered through the town.
"Shhh, just take a little nap," assured the mare as she stepped towards Octavia slowly. "It's time for rewards for good ponies."
Octavia staggered and collapsed in place, the drugs forcefully hoisted on her robbing her of thought. The mare smiled happily as she advanced to work the unconscious mare up onto her back. "Up and away. Let's get you where you're most needed."
With a happy little giggle, she trotted away from the crime scene with her ill-gotten gains.
Vinyl woke, stretching each limb in turn. She could see it was well and truly day, as far as day went in the ashen age. "Good morning, or afternoon, whichever it is."
"Time: 10:37 am," noted Bullette with a precise nod. "Your sleep schedule is not congruent with optimal health."
"Yeah yeah, little mom." She reached over to ruffle Bullette's metal mane, not that it moved much. "Where is No Name and 'Tavi? I don't expect to see you without one or the other."
Bullette's ears swiveled in place, doing a full 360 turn in a way an organic pony could not hope to replicate. "No Name is doing a sad thing. Octavia departed at 6:00 am to engage in educational activities."
"See, that right there? That's the 'not healthy' schedule. 6 in the morning? No thanks!" Vinyl cleaned her goggles as she talked, using her magic to work a rag carefully. "If she went that long ago, shouldn't she be back?"
Bullette considered that. "You are correct. She may have visited Duck to perform?"
Vinyl lifted her leg and willed her LAP into action, pressing the buttons to call up the radio.
There was some soft music playing. Vinyl waited impatiently for it to end as she went about getting a nibble to eat and finish waking up.
"If you're hearing this, Quack, it means I'm not at the radio station. Sorry! I got called to a scary adventure where I'll be needed to keep up spirits and stop my friends from not being too unfriendly. Good luck! Wait, I'm the one adventuring. Wish me luck! Now back to more music." The music resumed. It was the same track, Vinyl quickly noticed.
Vinyl pointed a hoof at the LAP. "She's obviously not there. Hey, wanna walk with me and we can track her down?"
"Affirmative!" Bullette bounced in place, looking eager to begin the hunt.
Octavia roused with a soft murmur. She was on something soft. It was warm. She blinked, coming alert. Was she ho-- no. She was in a clean room with a bed she was on, but it was not her bed, nor her room. The walls were metal, polished steel at a glance.
She slid from the bed, her hooves clopping lightly on contact and as she took a few uncertain steps. "Where... am I?" She could distantly remember how she got there. That mare... Did she dare call for help, when that could summon unwanted company?
Her gun was gone, as were all her other possessions. She was a spellcaster, in theory, but with her focuses taken... She sank in place, ears falling as she considered her seemingly few options.
"Alright, keep it together," she counseled herself. "Let's... be sneaky." She crept up to the door, each step slow as she could be, especially when her hooves were about to touch the floor, to keep them quiet.
The door had no handle. It had a great wheel that looked like it needed to be turned. She reared up and put a hoof on two of its spokes as she grabbed closer to its center with her teeth, giving a great heave of effort. At first, nothing, but as she kept pulling, it began to turn slowly, clicking every few centimeters until it hit something and came to a stop with a soft, yet still far too loud, thump.
The door opened towards her suddenly, permitting two smiling ponies to enter. They were a male and a female, full sized, and not quite... right. Their proportions were just... off. Their eyes bulged a little and they looked sickly despite their sunny smiles. The male's eyes were a cloudy grey with no clear black or white or other color to be seen.
"You're awake," greeted the male. "Welcome, Queen."
"Shhh." The mare lifted a hoof to her lips. "She isn't that until the coronation, you know that."
The male shrugged. "But she will be, and will be." He wobbled a hoof with each will. "You're Octavia, right?"
"Y-yes..." She backed away a little from the ponies, but they just advanced to be with her. "I am Octavia Melody, and I don't care to be here, if we're being honest. Please show me the direction out of here, now, if you don't mind?"
The mare moved in on Octavia's left as the stallion went for the right. "Now now, don't be nervous. We're your friends and assistants."
"Subjects," noted the stallion with a nod, blinking those bulging eyes of his. "We want you to be happy."
"I'll be happy when I am returned to my friends." Octavia tried to step past them, but they moved with her.
The mare shrugged softly. "We are your friends, and you're grumpy because you haven't eaten. What would you like to eat?"
Octavia cocked a brow. "I would like a slice of toast, lightly buttered with a cup of coffee." She expected none of that. "A light assortment of fruits and a fresh carrot."
"I'm on the case," announced the stallion as he ambled away, his gait also just... not quite right.
The mare coiled on herself, drawing a brush from a saddlebag. "Now you just sit down and let me work out that bed mane. You deserve to look your best."
Octavia peered in the direction he had fled. "Is he... actually going to get any of that? Do you even know what half of that is? I've seen no--"
The mare gently pressed a hoof to Octavia's lips. "Shhh, relax. You're in good hooves." She began brushing Octavia dutifully, working her pelt first in long firm strokes. "Octavia Melody, that's a pretty name... Queen Melody. I would be delighted to serve that name."
Octavia's eyes widened. "Wait, you're..." she petered off, statement dying on her lips. "Let me go. I don't want to be your, or anyone else's, queen." She hopped away from the mare, glaring at her.
The mare shook her head softly. "You already are a queen, you just forgot it. Now be calm. We're not going to hurt you, promise." She rose up to her hooves, brush dangling from her teeth. "Oh, your poor hooves."
Octavia glanced down at her raised hoof. She had been eyeing the exits, considering escape plans. "What... about them?"
"They're all ragged." The mare set down her brush. "You just lay down and let your servant take care of them."
"Breakfast," sang the male, returning with a lidded tray.
Octavia glared at the tray and its secrets. "There's no way you prepared all of that so quickly."
"Observant," he noted with a smile, seeming proud. "I brought what we had ready. The rest will arrive as soon as possible." He allowed the tray to slide carefully off his back to an ornate little table. "For now, enjoy." He grabbed the handle of the lid in his teeth and pulled it away, revealing strawberries in a heaping pile.
Octavia's eyes widened. It wasn't as if she'd never seen a strawberry before, but they seemed so incredibly out of place in the world she'd found herself in. So... colorful and bright and... She wandered closer, eyes locked on the pile of impossibility before her.
She dared to reach out and scoop one up onto a hoof, carefully bringing it to her face. It smelled of strawberries, sweet and potentially tasty. "I... see..."
"I have a hunger." She set the strawberry down. "For information."
"Remarkable," sighed out the female.
"Very regal," agreed the male, nodding softly. "How can we serve you?"
She gestured at it. "If you have access to these sorts of things." She threw a hoof to the inset lighting that chased away the darkness of the room. "You have power, fruit, and I'm... guessing coffee as well. Why aren't you sharing it with everypony else?"
They glanced at one another before the stallion shrugged softly. "We want all ponies to have these things, but we are just servants."
"Yes, just servants," agreed the female, nodding quickly. "We need someone who can see the larger picture."
He pointed at Octavia. "A right and proper queen that can put us on the right path."
"And chase away the invaders," agreed the mare, smiling.
"And restore the pony nation." The stallion nodded lightly.
Octavia quirked a brow. "And you think I am your queen... why? I have no experience in commanding anything much larger than my section in an orchestra. I don't care to expand my leadership abilities."
The stallion set a hoof on her shoulder. "Greatness is always intimidating."
"Frightening," agreed the mare. "But you could change the world."
"The entire world." The stallion smiled gently. "Just imagine it, all that suffering, brought to an end..."
"So many ponies." The mare clapped her hooves together in a smart clop. "They could live without fear. All they need is a proper--"
They spoke together, "queen." Both pointed at Octavia with conviction.
No Name looked between Vinyl and Bullette. "You lost Octavia? How'd you do that?"
"Hey, I was sleepin'! You can't even try to blame this on me." Vinyl shook her head firmly. "And before you ask, I tried asking the lappy here." She raised the arm that had it attached. "It doesn't track people, apparently, just buildings."
Bullette tilted her head at the object. "Buildings do not move, usually, making their tracking significantly easier. In this we agree." She nodded with solidarity with the LAP. "Where can we find Octavia?"
No Name put a hoof to his face, sighing through a few snakes. "Have you tried asking Longshot? They're close, and she was going to her office, right?"
Bullette bounced up on her hooves. "Excellent suggestion!" She started trotting towards Longshot's office without delay.
Vinyl followed along, No Name next to her. "She probably found something interesting and we'll find her playing some soft music or something and we'll laugh about being worried. She is the 'responsible adult' around here, right?"
No Name huffed softly. "Still hopin', but I don't like my puppies going stray."
"That is undesirable," agreed Bullette with a tense shift in her voice. "We should ascertain the precise location of Octavia as soon as possible."
They never made it into the building. Longshot was just outside of it, barking orders at some of the local militia, her wings fidgeting restlessly. She perked up when she noticed them coming. "There you are. Tell me you know where Octavia is, I command it!"
She rushed for them, but did went right past Bullette, who had been in front, going for No Name specifically. "Where is she?!"
No Name fell back on his haunches. "We were hoping you'd know. She was coming here, right?"
"She never arrived here," hissed out Longshot, scowling. "She's been perfectly punctual everyday! I have the militia searching everywhere for her, but not a single sign... Error: No Name! I trusted you!"
Vinyl quirked an ear. "Did she just pull a Bullette?"
No response came to her question. No Name waved his hooves wildly. "I figured she was safe in your town, just walkin' from where she slept to your own office."
Longshot shrank back as if struck. "Yes... yes, my town... An angel has been lost, in my town. All my protections, for nothing." She sank to her belly, eyes going distant. "I couldn't protect her... I couldn't protect anyone.. Maybe I'm... not a very good queen. My poor angel, where are you?" She collapsed entirely, flat on the ground, tears stinging at her eyes. "If only I had been a better ruler!"
Bullette leaned towards Vinyl, speaking very loudly despite the whispering tone it took, "she is experiencing a mental break. She is in need of a person whom she holds at a high friendship level to assist in recovery."
"Maybe I should talk to Octavia," shrieked Longshot, sitting up. "But I can't do that, not because she's gone home, safe and secure. Something's taken her, maybe eaten her, maybe worse than that. She may be suffering or dead or... just lost. She's not here! I can't talk to her and... I failed. I failed!" She covered her face with both forelocks, sobbing into her ankles.
"Shh..." A new pony had arrived, with a big sheriff's hat and a silver star. Miss Demeanor had an arm around Longshot. "Shh... It'll be alright."
"It's not alright! My angel!" She buried her face into Miss Demeanor's chest, Longshot's horn narrowly avoiding skewering her assistant as she cried piteously.
Miss looked past the crying form of her boss, gently patting her. "She's no help to anyone when she's like this. She needs time to recover. In the meanwhile, find Octavia."
"My angel!" she cried, freshly triggered with the mention of the missing pony's name.
"Quickly would be nice..." Miss Demeanor murmured soft nothings to Longshot, gently encouraging the much larger mare to start moving back towards their office.
That left Vinyl, No Name, and Bullette. Bullette inclined her head. "We must find her."
Vinyl let out a slow breath. "I'm with you, but how? Shoot, wish I had gone missing. Octavia can find things, remember? She'd already be leading the way to me."
No Name started for the house they were staying in. "Let's assume she walked straight here, because why wouldn't she? There has to be a few clues or somethin', so start lookin'."
"Increasing sensor sensitivity to maximum safe level." Bullette began sweeping her eyes across the ground, small fans in her nose whirring as she pulled in air to process. Even her ears were rotating wildly in search of any clue that there was to be found.
"Huh, didn't know you could--"
Bullette clapped a hoof over one of her ears. "Please lower the volume of your speech."
"Oh," she whispered, blushing. "Let's search."
"If you want me to be your queen, you have to follow my orders." Octavia nodded as she spoke, confident in her logic.
"Of course," easily agreed the mare.
"Without hesitation." The male smiled, his bug eyes trained on Octavia. "What does our queen demand?"
Octavia raised a hoof to her mouth, coughing softly. "We would like a tour of these facilities. Show me the lay of my castle."
Both ponies perked, bouncing up to all fours with matching smiles. "With honor," gushed the male.
"Right this way." The female gestured to the door, bowing her head low.
Octavia strode past them, unchallenged. She dared a little smile as she went. Perhaps she could talk her way free of the problem before anything terrible happened... "How many ponies are stationed here? We would know of our tactical strengths."
The mare and stallion rushed to keep up, just behind her. The mare gestured at the doors they were passing in the narrow corridor. "There are five other potential queens here. Each has a pair of Faithful to see to their needs. We are yours."
The stallion nodded in agreement. "They will be jealous to know we received the best candidate of the lot. We are deeply proud to be your servant, Queen Melody."
'Queen' Melody arched a brow as she trotted along. "Well, we have no need for inferior products, release them."
The two shared glances. "That is quite the ambitious order," noted the stallion.
"Very fitting," demurred the mare. "We don't have that kind... of say. We'll pass it along, Your Highness."
The stallion raised a hoof. "Before you can be a proper Queen, you do need your crown, and there are steps before that."
Octavia felt her teeth setting. She had hoped she could at least improve the lot of others who had been captured. "Let's resume the tour. You did not finish numbering the ponies. Are there more beside the two per queen?"
The mare gestured expansively as they emerged from the narrow hall into a great well-lit hall. "This is one of our sacred places. There are, at this time, one thousand two-hundred and fifty... three faithful present."
The stallion put a hoof that was just a little too large to his chest. "There are fifty outside agents, loyal to the cause, but not true Faithful, in attendance. Including the one that found you, Your Highness."
Octavia's ears went up. "We would like to speak to her, alone."
"As you wish," both agreed easily, starting off at a brisk trot.
Octavia followed them across the open space. Other faithful were there, each deformed in subtle ways, sick in other ways. None of them were entirely... right, and they stared. They peered at Octavia intently, judging her quietly. Whenever their eyes met, they bowed their heads and tried to look subservient, but Octavia could see out of the corner of her vision that they were staring.
One of them walked in front of them, hoof raised. "Where are you going with that candidate?"
The stallion gestured to Octavia. "She has issued us a command."
"She wishes to visit one of the loyal," finished the Mare with a nod.
The one in front of them scowled. "Take her back to her quarters and have the loyal brought. She is not to leave her room until she has been confirmed to stage two."
Octavia took quick note that the new 'Faithful' seemed sharper than the other two, and was clearly above them in hierarchy. She looked to him curiously. "What is your rank and name, Sir...?"
The Faithful's ears lifted, or tried. His right ear was entirely limp from the middle point up, another casual imperfection. "When you learn your place, you will learn who I am. For now, 'Your Highness', you need to go back to your room." He pointed back in the direction they had come from. "Until you are coronated, do not think you can order any save these two."
His gaze went to them, a withering stare. "And don't think there are no limits to what they will follow, or they will suffer."
Both cringed, cowed by the casual threat. "Right away!" yelped the stallion, turning around.
"Without delay! I'll go get the loyal." The mare scuttled away, leaving them all behind.
The stallion nudged Octavia gently. "This way, please."
Octavia considered her odds. She could try to make a run for it, but she had no idea where the exit was. They were underground, she determined, or in some great building. Just running wildly would hurt her long term options. "Of course..." She started back to her room, not making a fuss.
They had to trust her for her options to remain open...
When they arrived at the room, there was more there. Namely adorning the platter of berries was a slice of gently toasted bread with some butter spread on it. Beside it was a cup of black coffee, steam rising gently into the air.
Octavia shook her head as she approached. "I would not have believed it... No carrot?"
The stallion dipped his head low. "I accept responsibility, Your Highness. I'll go see what's delaying it." He was gone in a flash. There was a heavy sound of metal on metal. They had locked the door.
Octavia was trapped. She reached with her neck and chomped some of the toast. "At least... breakfast is prepared decently." For the first time in what felt like years, she had a perfectly pleasant little breakfast. She could leave no good comments about its ambiance, however.
The strawberries were each a delightful explosion of sweetness with every little bite into their soft cores. The butter tasted good and fresh, melted just enough to soak into the bread without becoming entirely lost.
It was, perhaps, good to be queen. Not that she wanted it.