Prologue Chapter 5: Red Moonlight
Octavia paused and stared at the noble's house before her. She had been in many like it, the most recent was Sir Fancy Pants' mansion last week. That party went splendidly and peacefully. She wished now this one would go just as smoothly.
Corporal Sentry stood by her expectantly. His golden armor banged around as he shifted his posture. Octavia could tell he was uncertain of something, so she put a hand on his pauldron to get his attention.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"Yes, m'lady. I just think it would be odd to stand beside you during the party. I could be with you with the others because Celestia was at the first and the other was out doors. This banquet has neither."
"Then stay out here if you must. That or take the night off. I kept the Assassin blade with me," she gestured at her wrist. "If any Assassin tries to attack me, I'll kill them like they kill others."
"But, Octavia, you told me that the blade won't come out for you."
"Well, it doesn't, but I can force it with some effort. Good Guard, don't worry for me. I am-"
"Yes, yes," he sighed. "You are trained, I know. I hope none see that lump under your sleeve. It appears you have a fat forearm to me."
With that, he turned down the street with his palm resting on his sword's hilt. He did not even wave adieu to Octavia. With him away, hopefully I can have some peace. The cellist watched him leave before taking a deep breath and returning her curious gaze to the house.
The house was three stories tall with a decorative spire stretching upwards in the front right corner of the building. In the moonlight it was a faint grey bluish color that tricked the eye since it was actually white. A small flight of wide steps led up to double doors. Elegant stone carvings swirled about the walls and even in the hick wooden doors. The noble's home lacked many windows, however, as only the door windows and two others above them could be seen. This indicated that it was an old structure, made back when large glass windows were far less frequent.
The cellist took a deep breath and marched up the steps. The cello on her back rattled slightly as she ascended. Being in a rich part of the capital, the roads were quiet in the early night. Most streets would be flooded with both the innocent and the undesirable, but the rich neighborhoods lacked such constant activity. Thus it was so quiet that Octavia a could her each of her light footsteps.
She reached the door and knocked on it four times. The reply came quickly as a servant opened the great door for her. She was met with old, rat-like eyes and a grumpy frown. The aged servant showed no positive emotion as he inspected her gravely.
"You must be the cellist," he practically moaned. "Please come in."
He sidestepped out of her way and stretched his arm out in his best attempt to appear hospitable. Octavia gave him a coy smile before entering. Since she arrived earlier than the party guests, there was hardly anyone inside except more servants. She felt slightly uncomfortable as the servants scurried around her, making sure everything was ready for the coming banquet. Her discomfort rose when the ratty servant who welcomed her placed a wiry hand on her shoulder.
"The musicians are setting up over here, m'lady," he drawled.
He gave her a nudge to make her move forward. His pesky eyes and ridiculously sharp chin stared at her as she followed every direction he pulled her. He led her first through a single door that opened up a rather spacious dining room. This room was also crawling with servants, each one more panicked and anxious than the last. The servant that held on to her shoulder had a calmness unlike any of the others. He spoke with a low and bored voice while every other servant squeaked like startled mice.
"Here you are," he sighed. "Please make yourself at home. The Lady of the House shall be with you shortly."
Octavia could not find her voice and simply nodded in acknowledgement. The old servant took this without reaction and walked away with the speed of a tortoise. With nothing else to do, Octavia began to set up her cello.
She opened up the worn case to reveal the instrument of her income. Its wood had long lost its shine and glimmer. The strings, though still new, needed tuning. The accompanying bow was, due to Octavia's fond habit, whisked about like a graceful sword.
"I've always wondered how effective this little piece would be in combat. I may have to test it on an Assassin..."
The cellist stood up and leaned her instrument on the cold wall. The other musicians took notice of her as they themselves set up for the night. A lyrist, a violinist, a couple of flutists, and Octavia were the complete musical entertainment. Octavia hardly socialized with the musicians that often shared her woes. Thus, even though they all took notice of her, the cellist did not make any effort to return the attention.
"Hash the music arrived? I must see ze talent!"
Octavia was startled by the loud voice that entered the room so suddenly. At one of the opened doorways stood a short, flamboyant woman with bleached white hair and large, round, purple spectacles. Her attire was just as loud as her voice, being made of pinks, blues, whites, and blacks. Her wrists were planted firmly on her hips and her head was raised at an odd level.
"Lady Finish!" the servants shouted in unison and all gave her a bow.
"Are these them, Harold?" Lady Finish pointed a dramatic finger at the musicians.
The grumpy servant nodded slowly. "They are, my lady."
"Brilliant!"
The short woman practically jumped across the dining room to the musicians. Octavia could tell she had no interest in giving the musicians any comfortable space as she leaned in with her bright spectacles and gave them careful inspection. She zoomed to each one quickly until she reached the cellist.
"And you play cello, no?" Lady Finish yelled only inches away from Octavia.
"Why yes, my lady, I do," she gulped.
"Brilliant! You are simply perfect for my party! You have the hair, the eyes, and the posture of a true woman!" She grabbed the cellist's shoulders. "I v'ust paint you!"
"Paint me?" Octavia repeated.
"I am Lady Finish!" the woman drew back to make a pose. "I am ze greatest artist in all of Equestria! Why am I ze best, you ask? I paint only the most regal, most beautiful, and most gifted of all Canterlotian women! Lady Finish does not paint if ze subject does not have ze magics!"
"Are you insane?" Octavia whispered.
"Insane?" Lady Finish gasped. "I'ze not insane! You are truly worthy of my art! Harold! Is this cellist not beautiful?"
The old servant shook his head and answered with no excitement whatsoever, "no, my lady, she is actually quite captivating."
"Harold agrees with me! You have ze magics!"
"But..But I am not a noble. A cellist does not deserve a painting," Octavia pointed out with uncertainty.
"When haz zat ever stopped Lady Finish?" The artist huffed.
Octavia could only shrug. Lady Finish seemed to have taken the gesture as a legitimate answer to her question. The older woman scrutinized the younger under bright spectacles. Octavia, usually the bold and resilient young lady, was frightened terribly by the artist before her.
"Come! I v'ust paint you before the banquet begins!"
"I must intervene, my lady," Harold drawled again. "The main guests are on their way, you cannot complete a portrait in so little time."
Lady Finish huffed in disappointment. "You are right. Perhaps she can stay after the banquet. I will even pay her to stay longer!"
"I believe that's fine, Lady Finish," Octavia bowed to show her acceptance of the artist's suggestion.
"Good! Now prepare vo'self! Ve got many guests arriving soon. I go!"
Octavia's hand glided over the cello's strings.The evening was going along swimmingly. The noble guests, for the most part, were behaving like true ladies and gentlemen. Among the guests was an Equestrian Prince, a few high society nobles who loved art, wealthy painters, and a skilled sculptor. All were fond of the music that the musicians heartily provided, even if they did not pay them much attention.
Drinking and merriment were in large amounts at the party. Lady Finish could be heard in every conversation because of her boisterous demeanor. Sometimes her voice even drowned out the music. It took Octavia's best to focus on her music alone and not be bothered by the hostess.
The cellist slid the bow across the strings expertly. Her eyes would glance around the room every now and then to inspect the actions of the guests. Due to the past week, she was uncertain of every Canterlotian she met. Since she never had any true friends outside of Luna and Celestia, there was no safety found for her outside the Two Sisters. Now, without the Royal Guard beside her, she felt slightly exposed. Normal revelers or quiet gentlemen seemed like hidden enemies for her to find.
There was one lady who kept staring Octavia's way. The cellist knew every time this woman lanced her way and took care to conceal her notice of such behavior. The woman was tall and fit, in a wavy and superfluous dress of jewels and white satin. Curly rich purple hair was wrapped elegantly around her head and sapphire eyes completed her striking appearance.
Octavia watched the woman as much as she watched her. Each one glancing the other way when the other risked a look. She was starting to have trouble playing her cello as the woman kept distracting her.
"Come along, Octy. She's a nobody. Maybe she just enjoys your music?" Octavia tried to relax.
This did not help and she glanced up again, only to see the woman sitting at a table of noblemen. The woman's red lips were turned in a regal smile as sh laughed with the men that flanked either side of her.
"Oh, she is that kind of a woman. Should have known by her locks and style," Octavia shrugged and continued playing.
She tried to return to her playing, but her music stopped. The other musicians carried on without a fear while she held herself idle. Maybe I should take a break. I still have all night no? She stood up from her chair. The guests did not take notice of her and carried on in their mutual enjoyment.
She whisked her bow once before sliding in the small sash that kept her dress close at the waist. The suspicious woman was still chatting with the men. All is well there, I presume. With her bow in the sash and her cello resting against the wall, she started to walk through the banquet. Servants hurried to and fro with reckless abandon. More than once did she have to dodge their quick cuts and turns.
"Well, of course! Darling, don't you think that would be ravishing? I know so!" the woman laughed.
Octavia passed her without a glance her way, but she could feel the other look at her. A tingling crawled down her spine as she forced herself to keep moving.
A servant walked by with a platter of cups on it. Octavia swiped one of the cups without disturbing the rest. She peered down the glass with a slight frown. The red wine in the glass did not appear as delicious as it should. However, the cellist lacked care to judge the beverage and drank it all right then and there.
The wine was still sweet enough to be given at such a banquet. With a single suspicious glance at the woman, she started to walk towards one of the mansion's balconies. The moon was as large as ever, and unusually red. Must be an effect of the celestial movements, Octavia concluded. She leaned on the small balcony's railing, overlooking the silent Canterlotian streets.
The small breeze only ruffled her thick hair slightly. Octavia sighed as these moments of quiet used to relieve her of stress. Her mind could not move away from the purple-haired woman. The way she walked, the way she kept glancing about, her whole demeanor screamed that she was more than what she appeared.
"Oh, am I being paranoid?" she asked herself. "After Twilight, I seem to believe everyone is an enemy."
She was about to take a sip from her glass, but remembered that all the wine in it was spent. With a role of her eyes, she turned and headed back into the mansion. Upon entering, she instinctively looked at where she last saw the woman. She was not surprised to see the woman gone and nowhere to be seen.
An urge rose in her. Still holding the empty glass, she began to search for the woman. Each heartbeat made her more certain of who she was dealing with. When she reached the table full of chatting men, she smiled and cleared her throat.
"Good men, I saw you speaking with a fair lady, can you be so kind to tell me where she went?" she asked politely.
"Ah yes, the lady went outside through the garden door," one bearded man said. "She said she had a caller."
The others nodded. Octavia told them a cheerful "thank you" before heading off in the direction of the garden door. Only now did some take notice of her. She had to pass her quiet cello to reach the door in the side of the mansion.
Octavia opened the door and quickly walked through it. The night sky welcomed her back and the moon was still as red as before. The small garden full of roses and daises surrounded her, but there was no sign of the mysterious woman. In fact, the garden was completely empty. The cellist's suspicions rose with the odd scene before her. The gentlemen all agreed that the woman left through her, but she was already gone.
Her eyes left the garden and drifted to the streets. A lone man in wealthy garments was whistling loudly as he walked along the cobblestone. The cellist crept to the edge of the garden to watch the young fellow. She had seen the man at the banquet, but he never interacted with any of the other guests. This gave reason for Octavia to watch him.
Her heart started to beat loudly. A certain feeling of trouble was rising in her. The vanishing woman, this silent participant, and the past week all started to creep into her mind. There was no sign of danger, but she felt it no doubt.
In a very unsophisticated manner, Octavia grabbed the garden's railing and pulled herself over it. After a short fall, she was now on the cobblestone street. The whistling man was in no rush as he continued his boring journey.
The cellist looked about to see if any were around, once the coast was clear, she started to follow the man. Being quite a distance away from him, the man never noticed her.
The streets were becoming darker and the shadows were creeping all around. His direction was leading him towards the eastern parts. No sane noble would go this route.
"Maybe he is visiting someone of a lesser class?" Octavia mumbled.
He soon passed a black alley without checking who was in it. As he passed, the mysterious woman, now wearing a white hood of brilliant lace, quietly exited the alley and followed him much closer than Octavia.
Octavia quickened her step. There was no doubt why the woman left the party like she did. She was an Assassin and she found her prey. Octavia unfastened her sleeve to free her wrist blade. The device would not cooperate with her and she struggled to force the blade out.
The Assassin also had a wrist blade. With a gentle and graceful flick of her wrist, the steel blade, carved with floral patterns, popped out of her dress's sleeve. The blade was already red in the fading moonlight.
Octavia started to run. She did not know this man, but she was making sure he would not be a victim of the Brotherhood. With a final push, she forced the blade out of the device and rushed at the Assassin.
"Sir! Watch out!" she cried.
The young man gasped and turned around. Even at the distance and darkness, Octavia could see the fear in his face. The Assassin pounced at him and dug her blade deep into his neck. A dying gargle left his throat and blood squirted in the air.
"You fiend!" Octavia yelled.
The Assassin quietly laid him on the ground. Her blade was brought back into her sleeve, but only after wiping the blood on the man's shirt. A few whispered words left her delicate lips and she closed his gaping eyes shut. Then she finished by sliding a white feather over the wound, staining it in his blood.
Octavia halted before her, blade out and ready. After the Assassin performed the odd ritual, she stood up, revealing that she was taller than the cellist. Octavia was not intimidated, however, and stood her ground.
"How could you kill like that!" she growled.
The Assassin turned to her slowly, the hood covering the top half of her face. "Ah, the cellist, I'm terribly sorry about disturbing your night. Please carry on and ignore what you've seen tonight."
"Ignore? I rather betray the Two Sisters."
"You don't understand what is going on, cellist. This man was a criminal, a leader of injustice in Canterlot. His death was necessary, darling."
"And you justify this?" Octavia gestured at the corpse. "I've had enough of you bloody Assassins. You've killed your last victim!"
Octavia swung her blade at the Assassins. The woman carefully stepped back to avoid the attack, but did nothing else. The cellist waited for some sign of counterattack, but none came. She stepped closer to the Assassin and attacked again, but to the same result.
"I can see you need some practice with that weapon, my dear," the Assassin remarked.
"Fight me! Do you Assassins only attack those who have their backs to you? You cowards!"
The Assassin dodged another attack. "I admire your courage, but I will not fight you."
"Why not?"
"Because you are still innocent in all of this. I do not kill for sport."
Octavia swung again, but this time she predicted how the Assassin would move. She jabbed at her and quickly switched the direction of the attack, catching the Assassin's arm in the process.
"Gah!"
The Assassin clutched the large cut on her arm. Her gaze turned to the wound. The blood oozed out of the cut and onto the white dress. A indignant growl left her mouth.
"I had this dress perfect! How will I get the stains out?" she asked as her blood coated the dress's sleeve.
Octavia readied another attack, but the sounds of Guards and yelling distracted her. They both looked at the commotion to see a squad of Royal Guards running towards them. This boosted Octavia's confidence and she grinned.
"You are in trouble now..."
She stopped when she realized the Assassin was far away, running down the dark alleys with amazing speed. No matter, she can't run forever. Octavia jogged towards the Guards with a wave of her arm.
"The killer! The killer ran that way!" she told them and pointed down the alley.
"She killed the young lord!" one shouted.
Octavia lifted an eyebrow. "What?"
The Royal Guards stopped before her. Only then did she realize the wrist blade was still extended and it was covered in the Assassin's blood. A defense was preparing in her mind, but it was too late.
"Arrest her!" the lead Guard ordered.
The rest of the Royal Guards drew their swords. Octavia felt anger grow in her. She pointed the blade at them, but lowered it. She knew there was no use in resisting. After a failed attempt at pulling the blade back, she simply lifted her hands in defeat.
The lead Royal Guard walked up to her. "You have defiled the law of the Two Sisters and Equestria. In their name you are under arrest."
Octavia had seen several criminals arrested before, so she knew what was coming next. She braced her face and half closed her eyes. The Royal Guard brought his armored fist up over his shoulder and soon slammed it in her face, making everything go dark.
~
Lady Finish looked about. "Now where did zat cellist go? I need my subject!"
Stats
Page generated in 0.016 seconds
Total duration
784 users online
654,965 hits today, 2,205,040 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Photo Finish is totally gonna bail her. Right? ....Right?
6643230 .....
Uhhh.....you'll just wait and see
Do I feel sorry for Octavia here. She always seems to get the short end of the stick when all she wants to do is live in peace. Ok Twilight how are you going to make amends to Octavia for this? It makes me question why Octavia would ever want to associate with you.
6644105
"Well, we you see them, yeah...I'm surprised the whole nation isn't with us."
6644183
Twilight a wise saying goes you can lead a horse to water but you cannot make them drink. So far I see you making calls that could drive the very people you are trying to save right into your opponents waiting hands. Please ask Fluttershy for advice on how to better handle things around poor Octavia for a bit please, so you don't fall into the trap your alternate universe counterpart did.
6644225
"Oh yeah....her..."
6644287
Good to know Twilight! Just remember how to be a friend and you will not fall to the Dark Side of the Templars. So keep your friends close and your enemies with a hidden blade in the back!