The Adventures of Shadow Chaser: Octavia in the Wolves' Den

by RangerBeef

Chapter 2

I flipped through my notes, standing on the platform as the train behind me began to roll away off to wherever it was they were headed. I found what I was looking for after a moment. Octavia’s parents’ address. Vinyl had it written down for me before she left my office. I guess it was more of an emergency contact type of thing. Phryge and Lydia Octave. I caught myself. Their last name is Octave? So they named their daughter Octavia Octave? Poor kid. I double checked the address and headed down the street, practicing the lies I would have to spin to see what I could get out of her parents.

I steadied my nerves before knocking on the door. I was never fond of lying but found myself in a profession that somewhat relied upon it. I’ll have to talk to AJ one of these days about how she’s able to be so honest all the time. I really don’t know how she does it. She like some kind of… I was cut off mid-thought as the door in front of me opened and I was met with a frown.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was pitched remarkably high, even for a woman.

I put on a slight accent and spoke evenly, “Yes, I was wondering if you had seen Octavia lately.”

“Is this some kind of sick joke?”

That was not the answer I had expected. “No, ma’am. I just need to know if you’ve seen Octavia.”

The high pitched pony seemed to grow even more agitated. “Well, I never!” With that, the door slammed shut and I stood dumbfounded. Vinyl had assured me that no one had told Octavia’s parents, and the Ponyville PD wouldn’t have contacted them yet. What in the world had her so upset? I turned to go and begin another lead when the door opened again. Expecting a caning this time I quickly turned and backed a few steps away from the door.

I was greeted by a colt this time. He did not look happy at me.

“Can you explain to me, sir, why you were taunting my wife just now?”

“Excuse me?”

“You just asked my wife twice if she had seen our daughter. Did you not?”

“Yes, sir, I did.” His emphasis of the word seen had slightly clued me in but he elaborated quickly.

“I’ll have you know my wife has never seen our daughter. She has never seen anything for that matter. She has been blind all her life.”

I swore at myself for not being thorough with questioning Vinyl. Though even if I had, this was not on my list of usual questions to ask. “I deeply apologize, sir. I was unaware. I’m a conductor for the Manehattan Orchestra and Octavia had tried out to be a part of our orchestra and her home address was lost to us but the second address she gave us was here.”

He looked skeptical. As well he should with the line of manure I had just fed him. Still, his gaze turned from anger to one of welcoming. “Are you saying our Octavia has been accepted to the Manehattan Orchestra?”

“Well, not exactly, sir. The Boston Trots,” I said. I never realized a love of classical music would come in handy on the job.

The man seemed almost giddy with excitement now. “Well, sir, why don’t you come on in!” He shook my hoof and pulled me inside. “My name is Phryge. This is my wife, Lydia.”

She looked peeved at the fact that I was in their home now but her husband changed her mood for me, excitedly sharing the news that their only daughter was to be a part of the Boston Trots. Her face changed from one of scorn to joy. They had a small moment of celebration and then realized I was still standing there.

“Oh, come to the living room. I’ll write down Doria’s address and you call tell us about what it’s like to be a part of such a symphony.”

There it was. “Did you say Doria?” I asked, playing my best dumbfounded look as I followed them to their living room.

“Oh yes. I forgot she goes by ‘Octavia’ now. I’m surprised you don’t know her stage name.” He grabbed a piece of paper and a quill scribbling down an address I already had.

“Oh, I wish she wouldn’t use a stage name,” Lydia said, with a sad twinge in her voice.

“Why is that, Mrs. Octave?”

“Well, Doria was my grandmother’s name. I know it’s an old fashioned name but my grandmother practically raised me and taught me all about music. Everything I know I learned from her.” I could see her choking up just at the mention and quickly grabbed a tissue from a nearby box. I touched her hoof and set the tissue on it. She thanked me and wiped her tears. “Oh, but enough about all that. What do you think of our daughter’s playing? Is she really good enough to be in the Boston Trots?”

A part of me had grown tired of the lies so I offered a half truth. “To be honest, I’ve never heard your daughter play. I’m simply the messenger they send out. But from the conductor’s comments, she’s one of the best cellists the Trots will ever see.”

Neither one of them seemed disheartened by my never having heard her play or concerned with the massive hole I had just opened up in my own story. They focused on the part about their daughter being a huge success. So far as I could tell, from what Vinyl had told me, that wasn’t really a lie. Octavia had a lot of natural talent but she apparently stifled herself with a life in Ponyville.

As Mr. Octave handed me the address, I got up and walked toward the door. “I wish that I could stay but I’m trying to catch the next train and if my watch is right, I’ve got about five minutes to make it back to the train station.”

They both smiled and nodded, hugging each other as they followed me to the door. “Well, then you best hurry, sir. Thank you for this amazing news,” they shouted at me as I made it look like I was hurrying off into the night.

I stopped for a moment and shouted back, “I’ll make sure to get you both a free ticket!” And with that I disappeared around a corner.