Octavia's Last Night

by Rune Soldier Dan

The Devil's Bargain

The large hand of the clock ticked and moved. Two minutes until midnight.

Octavia’s hooves worked at her throat in familiar motions, looping and tugging her pink bow tie into place. The dressing mirror was corroded along the edges, but did its job. Really, this whole place was falling apart – a Canterlot townhouse, her third and last, bought cheaply to avoid the commotion of apartments and guest houses. Her last years had been a long race against time, and she had won. There sat the finished Tenth, now stacked neatly upon her desk.

She nodded, satisfied with the old tie, and turned from the mirror. Damned she might be, but she would face it with dignity. Although Tirek’s demons would probably use it to choke her or some other horrid thing.

Thunder burst outside. Rare for the mountain city, rain battered at her window.

Octavia watched the drops break and run down the glass. She shuddered, realizing in a rush these were her last moments free of endless torment. Yet a tight laugh barked from her throat, for she wanted them done. Enough with this cruel anticipation, lurking in her thoughts every moment of this strange night. What came after would be out of her hooves, and there was a small bit of comfort in that.

Tick. A buzzing as the bell wound in the grandfather clock, then a soft gong as it struck the hour.

The room grew dark, just for a second. Like the lights had guttered.

Then a click from beneath her hooves, and the shriek of rusting hinges as the front door opened. Heavy hoofsteps began walking slowly down the main hall, towards the stairs to her study.

“Must we wait yet more?” Octavia grumbled, though already her collar grew chill with sweat.

Well. She could be strong a moment longer, just one more. She sat primly on a chair, could not resist a sob but quickly took back control.

A wan smile found her face. “At least you’re here, Dis...”

She turned as she spoke, but left it unfinished. Discord was nowhere to be seen.

The hooves, heavier than those of any pony, reached the top of the stairs.

Octavia gave a short, bitter sigh and sat down facing the door. She should have turned the hallway lamp on – she did not like the darkness. She did not like how Tirek’s black body emerged like a shadow itself, bringing what seemed his disembodied head into view before stepping into the light of the study.

His motions were calm and slow. He smiled politely. A chain clinked, and his red-cloaked captive followed him into the room. One slim, withered hand held the leash, and the other raised itself in greeting.

“I have returned, Miss Octavia.” His low, reedy voice took almost a friendly tone.

“So you have,” Octavia said tightly.

“Have you given thought to my offer?”

“Much.” Resolving to remain controlled and polite, she gave a nod. “Thank you for it. On consideration, I am obligated to decline.”

Octavia braced herself. Would there be a roar of anger, thin hands seizing her by the neck? A hole torn in her study floor to the fiery abyss?

But there was none of that. Tirek’s smile merely shrunk to a more measured, thoughtful look.

“You know what that means, I trust,” he said with utter calm.

“You were fairly explicit,” Octavia replied.

“Then why?” Tirek asked, his gaze probing, his expression confused. “You will scream and burn forever, little pony, and I was willing to trade it for something you can’t even hold. Is this mere pride, or do you really value your music more than your eternity?”

Octavia hesitated, having not at all been expecting to give an explanation.

“I suppose… the music is no longer mine. It is already out into the world. Others have been inspired and comforted by it, and thus become changed for the better. I will not rob them for my own sake.”

Tirek gave a thoughtful hum, stroking black nails through his beard as he cast his gaze over Octavia. His expression returned to one of smiling expectancy, with pointed eyebrows raised in good humor.

“That is quite noble,” he announced, to Octavia’s surprise. “I must say I did not take you for the type. You are even more exceptional than expected.”

Octavia had steadied herself for rage and agony; she did not expect flattery. It tugged at her pride, but iced her nerves. She gave a single nod, fully unsure where this was going.

Tirek tapped a finger on his lips, eyes down and away in some thought. A twitch came to his face, and Octavia saw rows of jagged teeth behind the smiling lips.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he said pleasantly, at last returning his eyes to her. “I really should just take you and be done with it, but I can’t help but admire you. Allow me to give you a last, last chance. A final offer.”

He extended his bony arm, one finger stretched and pointing to the stack of papers by Octavia’s side.

“Only the Tenth Sympthony. The Tenth to me, mine to destroy, in trade for your soul. It has never been played; no one has been saved or inspired by it. The world won’t miss what it hasn’t heard. You might then pass on to Paradise with a clear conscience, having saved all the good you’ve done and your soul as well.”

The chain clinked. The captive stiffened, raising its red-cloaked head.

Octavia blinked once, twice, staring to the wall. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the words for trickery even as her heart lunged for this fragile hope. All those stars, all she’d done – untouched! Free to echo through the ages, free as her soul! The loss of the Tenth would be sad, but she had half-robbed the Reaper stalling death long enough to finish it in the first place. A token payment, the last few years of a life pushed to its bitter end, in exchange for all the years forever to come.

A chuckle pushed its way from her mouth. Her heart beat fast with desperate jubilation.

“I acc–”

“Don’t do it, Octi!”

The shrill voice rang out from decades long gone, freshened to mind by the journey of this unholy night. Yet no reminder was needed. If a thousand years would further pass Octavia would never forget the voice which came from the cloaked figure. She knew it before a white hoof lurched from the cloak, struggling against the tight collar to pull down its hood before simply ripping through it with the horn to unveil shaggy blue hair and magenta eyes.

“Vinyl!” Octavia called out, but her old friend spoke over her.

“We dead can see, Octi! Your Tenth is the greatest work of all, you must not let him have it! It is the voice of all the stars, of Harmony itself! All that you’ve done has lead to it, all the good you’ve wrought only the beginning of what it shall–”

She gave a gagged cry as Tirek hauled the leash, toppling her to the ground.

Vinyl gasped raggedly and pressed on. “By its song, Queen Chrysalis shall learn to love. Tyranny and war shall be relics of the past as the music of the Tenth brings the whole world together in harmony and love. You must not give it up, no matter w–”

Red magic glowed, and a cage like for a wild dog appeared around Vinyl’s muzzle, clamping it shut tight. Tirek’s shadow crossed over her, tying it in place while a solid cloven hoof came down on her neck.

“Silly girl,” Tirek mused. His reedy voice buzzed like hornets, the conversational tone turning low and cruel.

“Get your hooves off her!” Octavia leaped to a stand. Instinct lowered her head, ready to charge.

Tirek’s eyes turned upon her, and their black orbs turned her to animal fear. Her ears flattened, her head bowed lower. An old mare against a god, and some dreadful aura caused Octavia to retreat a step with a mewling little neigh.

“Why? She is mine.”

Tirek raised his hoof as though to stomp Vinyl’s neck, his face alight with vicious glee. But it came down slowly to rest by her instead, the black eyes still fixed upon the composer.

“Vinyl,” Octavia called, her voice cracking as she stared at her old friend. Vinyl looked worn, but not so much older than when she called at the window. Had she really died so soon after?

“What happened to you?”

The magenta eyes turned to Octavia with despair. Vinyl moaned softly into her gag.

“A tragedy of the world,” Tirek pined, speaking seriously yet unable to suppress his grin. “Those lost… those abandoned, all tend to find their way to me. Poor souls whose suffering in life was mere preparation.”

Magic flared around his horn, and the dusty room disappeared into memories. But these were a roller coaster, one vision veering sharply to the next of a life in downward spiral: tours failed, bills mounted. A has-been wubstep artist, lovelorn and become indifferent to all but the next sensation. Drunkenness turning to arrests, drugs to comas, sex to diseases. Never changing or even trying to, careening to the blackest depths of numbed aesthesis until she plunged too deeply to rise again.

The room returned.

“So what!?” Octavia shrieked, her anger flaring once again. “She doesn’t deserve you. She hurt no one!”

“Except herself,” Tirek explained with smiling calm, though his voice remained low and threatening. “Your body is not all your own, for it is a gift of the earth, protected by the nauseously loving ministrations of Celestia and shared with bonds of Harmony to all ponykind. To abandon and so cruelly murder the body is no less grievous when it is yourself instead of another.”

Tirek set his hoof on the white neck. A growl came from Octavia’s throat.

“She was to be my leverage, in case you proved stubborn.” Tirek’s shadow covered Vinyl’s body. Frost formed atop her, and she began shivering in place. “And it was made very clear what would happen to her if she acted up. Wasn’t it, dear Vinyl?”

Guilt gripped Octavia’s heart, but it flamed her anger. Too late to reconsider, to change Vinyl’s fate.

But she could share it.

“Enough!” Octavia barked. “Take your bargain and shove it up your ass, you overgrown goat!”

Then, thinking that if she enraged their captor he would forget to punish Vinyl, Octavia hocked and spit on Tirek’s chest.

“No more deals,” she yelled. “Stop wasting my time!”

Rage did flash in Tirek’s eyes, their yellow pupils sparking hot red as he seemed to grow taller before her, the room growing hot and dark, a growling scream struggling to free from his chest.

Then it all stopped, falling back to normal. Tirek smiled pleasantly at her, raising an eyebrow with wry humor.

“You don’t decide that,” he said. And his grin spread wide, showing many teeth.

The chain clinked. He brought Vinyl up by the leash to hang from the collar at her neck, dangling and limp.

Her eyes found Octavia’s, and her head shook desperately.

“I will punish her,” Tirek growled through his smile. “For both her insolence, and your own. I shall wring her through the greatest torments all Tartarus can devise, stripping her over long, long decades of all memories, all self, all knowledge but unceasing agony. Until she is naught but a putrid, thoughtless maggot, whence I shall cast her to the dark and sightless pit where she will squirm forever with all the others who foolishly defied me while within my power.”

“Or...” Honey dripped cynically from his words. “I shall release her. In exchange for the Tenth.”

Vinyl kept shaking her head.

Octavia looked away.

Silence filled the room. The anger departed, leaving her hollowed and empty. She stumbled to a chair and sat down.

The answer was clear, of course. What she should, must do. If the Tenth was all Vinyl said – stars, what glory! A song fit to change the whole world for the better. How many would be saved, both from material strife and Tirek himself? Surely that’s why he was willing to yield everything else, tolerating her and Discord’s defiance, knowing all the while he had Vinyl as his trump in this bargain he pressed so hard for Octavia to accept.

Vinyl… Octavia tried to shut out the fate in store, found she could not. Vinyl would have saved her in another life, but she in turn could have saved Vinyl. Octavia always was the responsible one of the pair. She saw for herself they could have lived in happiness. Her own fault, her own blind fault…

Yes, the answer was clear.

Octavia could save Vinyl. And her old music, that was something. Alas for the future, for glories and redemptions which would now take crueller turns. And alas for Vinyl, so urgently shaking her head, trying to warn Octavia to leave her be. But Vinyl would depart for that place of no regrets, and then all would be well.

And Octavia… would go where she deserved. So it is.

“I accept,” Octavia said, and her voice broke on the last word. She wept, her face in her hoof, not daring to look at Vinyl, or at Tirek’s grin. Nails scraped on wood as he plucked the Tenth from her desk.

A balled paper, one of her discarded ideas, brushed off with Tirek’s motion. It bounced on the edge of a waste tin to land by Octavia’s lap.

She made to push it off, but it resisted as though glued, nor did it crumple against her hoof. She blinked her eyes clear, staring as the page unfolded just enough to present her with a single line, alongside a long squiggle with horns and a grin.

“How do you know Tirek will keep his word?”

Fear opened her eyes wide. She was so tired – why wouldn’t this night end? Yet she could not let this pass.

“Wait,” she said.

Tirek froze and looked to her sharply with an expression that could not possibly be fear.

Octavia’s throat was dry. She coughed and swallowed. “How do I know you’ll really let her go?”

Tirek laughed at once, perhaps having expected a true change of heart. “A contract will do. We gods are bound by our written word, and in turn may bind mortals.”

He lowered his voice, speaking more to himself than to her. “A good idea, in fact. We can’t give precious Celestia any excuse to meddle. But we will need a–”

“A witness!?”

The door, which was already open, somehow slammed open again to reveal Discord with his arms outstretched as though expecting applause.

“You again,” Tirek hissed. He stepped forward quickly, intercepting Discord as he strutted into the room. “This is none of your business.”

“Now, now, don’t be like that.” Discord patted him on the shoulder. “You need a witness, so here I am.”

Tirek poked a long nail into Discord’s chest. “What is your angle, you little backstabber?”

“Me the backstabber? I remember our last collaboration very differently.” Discord slid around the finger, gazing over to where Octavia sat with hooded eyes. “But that’s water under the bridge and all. We want the same thing, this time. Unless...”

His eyes met Tirek’s above a cagey smile. “You would rather I told things honestly?”

A low growl emerged in Tirek’s chest. He folded his arms and looked away. “What is in this for you?”

“The Tenth could spread Harmony across the whole world, and you ask why the God of Chaos would object?” Discord gave a lazy yawn. “Yet you are being a bit spoiled with your toy. Let me facilitate this so we can all move on to our next schemes.”

Tirek smirked, but quickly caught himself and scowled. “So be it. But I will be watching you.”

“Get a good look,” Discord called, walking towards the desk.

Octavia watched him approach. She didn’t rise, nor move at all.

She did speak. “So that was your reason. But enough. You win. Write the damn contract so we can be done with each other.”

Discord nodded to her and sat down. He drew a fresh sheet of paper, dunked Octavia’s last unbroken quill in ink, and wrote the following:

‘On this date of March 26, Year One-thousand eight-hundred and twenty-seven of the Divine Truce, the undersigned do agree that the music of the tenth symphony composed by Octavia Melody, begotten daughter of Peela Pear, shall henceforth be property of Tirek (Lord of Lies, et cetera) with full understanding of his intent to destroy it forever. In exchange, Tirek shall release his hold upon the soul of Vinyl Scratch and allow her to proceed without molestation to Paradise. This agreement is to be witnessed by Discord (undersigned) and to be held binding by all undersigned parties for eternity.’

Discord signed the page and passed it to Tirek, who read it and growled halfway through.

“‘Et cetera?’” he spat, but his smile quickly returned. He read it again, signed it with a flourish, and handed it back to Discord.

Octavia had again buried her face in her hooves. She signed the page without looking and shoved it away.

“The contract is sealed,” Discord announced.

A roar emerged, blasting Octavia from her chair and sending Vinyl tumbling to the wall. Triumphant, exultant, malign, Tirek seemed to swell, growing muscular and bright red. The Tenth Symphony became puny in his hands. He breathed in and blew fire upon it, laughing and laughing as the pages burst into flames.

Octavia hid her eyes. Silence fell, the sound of the flames died… and Tirek said nothing.

She looked. He yet stood there, huge and terrible. But the Tenth remained in his hands, whole and without so much as a scorch.

Tirek breathed again, covering the manuscript with smoke and consuming fire. He stopped, it burned for a second more, and then when the flames died they saw it was still undamaged.

A snort came out, from neither of them.

Tirek tightened his grip and pulled, seeking to tear the Tenth asunder. He grunted with effort, dug in his claws, twisted for all he was worth… nothing. Not so much as a folded corner.

He threw it to the ground. The pages didn’t even scatter.

Blazing black eyes turned to Octavia. She shakily stood, pressing herself to the corner, unable to think for the terrible violence promised in those eyes.

A new sound came – a muffled giggle.

Both of them turned to Discord, who rocked in place with both claws clamped over his mouth, grinning and chortling through them.

Quick as dark, Tirek was upon him. He seized the grey neck and slammed Discord to a bookshelf. Discord gave no resistance save piercing little giggles released to the air.

“WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT, YOU PATCHWORK CRETIN!?”

The voice, even not directed at her, pressed Octavia to the wall.

Discord merely stepped to the side, freeing himself without effort. His neck sloughed through the fist like water.

“Goodness me! Someone’s not happy with his purchase. Whatever is the matter?”

“Don’t play your games with me,” Tirek’s guttural, true voice shook the house.

“No games!” Discord promised. “As told in the contract, you are now owner of the tenth symphony written by Octavia Melody, begotten daughter of Peela Pear.”

Discord smirked, meeting Tirek’s gaze. “‘Begotten.’ The Octavia who is right here was adopted.”

Tirek matched him with a grin. “You think you are clever? I have a contract with no one, fool. I have purchased nothing, and we are simply where we started. You are pathetic, Discord.”

“Now!” He roared cheerfully, turning to Octavia. “A pity, that your would-be savior is an idiot. I offer you the deal afresh: Will you give me the Tenth? Or will Vinyl suffer all the pains Tartarus can devise?”

He tugged savagely on Vinyl’s chain as he spoke, and the collar turned to dust around her neck. The chain flew free and the cloak fell away, and both decayed and vanished in a blink.

Vinyl touched her neck, eyes wide as the muzzle disappeared.

Then a lion’s paw wrapped around Tirek’s shoulder, and Discord pushed their heads together like the closest of friends.

“Oh, but you do have a contract! For you see, Peela Pear gave birth to a filly she named Octavia Melody. Her time on this earth was alas quite short, the poor babe, but her name lives on with our dear composer. The first is the begotten daughter, and the clear subject of your contract. So congratulations, old chum! If she rises from the grave and writes nine symphonies, the tenth is all yours!”

Discord lowered his voice, leaning in closer. “You little backstabber.”

“So it’s revenge,” Tirek spat.

“Funnily enough, no. I’m the god of chaos, surely you don’t expect me to tell my–”

Tirek roared, louder than ever, a mad, deep noise of rage. The windows shattered, the carpet set ablaze in his fiery aura, the books around them pulped and desiccated.

He roared again, and Octavia lost all sense of touch. She was floating, then falling and screaming towards unfathomable depths.

A third roar. It grew shrill near the end, and she could see Tirek’s silhouette grasp desperately for the shadow of a laughing snake before she blacked out.

Then she opened her eyes. The study was whole and undamaged, and Tirek was nowhere to be seen.

Slowly, she crawled to a stand. And with hooves of pure white, so did Vinyl.

They stared at each other. Vinyl was worn and emaciated, with webbed lines behind her eyes. So beautiful.

Each took a step forwards.

“I’m sorry,” Octavia breathed.

“I forgave you long ago,” Vinyl replied.

Her form began to darken, taking on starry translucence like a clear night sky.

They rushed to each other and embraced, for only a few seconds more.

“So much wasted time,” Octavia whispered.

“Yet all eternity is before us.” Vinyl smiled widely and stroked a hoof along Octavia’s cheek. “It seems I’m going on ahead. I’ll wait for you!”

Then she vanished into the starlight.

Exhaustion stole over Octavia, deeper than all she felt before. She swayed in place, yet her mind still worked. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Discord?”

“Yes?”

As he spoke, Discord picked her up and began carrying her towards the sofa.

“Why did Tirek leave without my soul?”

“Oh, that.” Discord shrugged dismissively. “Isn’t it obvious? He never had your soul.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s Tirek, Octi. He lies.”

He had reached the sofa when a grey hoof rose and slapped him gently across the snout.

“Discord, you rotten old sod!” Octavia laughed despite it all, or because of it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hm? Well, I suppose I could have told you right from the get-go. You could have died bitter and alone, never hearing your own music, never knowing how you touched the world. And Vinyl would have remained in–”

“Enough, please.” Octavia said. “But why? Why did you help me?”

“I’ll never tell,” Discord said, and he laid her gently upon the couch.

Worn exhaustion turned at once to comfortable sleepiness. Octavia felt herself beginning to drift off, and gave a quiet yawn. “Why is this, though? All that Tirek said of me was true. I was nasty, rude, and cruel.”

“Do you remember the old mare?” Discord asked. “The one you hit with the cello, and she broke a hip. It was an accident, and you were too poor to help with the bills. But you went to the hospital every day to play for her, and your music brought light to the whole ward.”

“Do you remember Concerto? You fired him, yes. He was a spoiled boy, and this was the first time he learned he wasn’t a good musician. So he rallied, he practiced til he was blue in the face, and he went on to become a mighty performer.”

“Do you remember the stars, Octavia? All the good you’ve done, so much of it, and all that is only the beginning. For your music shall cascade through the ages to comfort the weary and inspire the great.”

“Thank you,” Octavia murmured. All to her seemed floating in a pleasant haze. “You’re a good friend.”

Discord snorted. “And you really are fading away if you think that.”

Octavia smiled. She had no breath left for a laugh. Just a whisper.

“That mare. She must be so proud of you.”

Discord said nothing.

He simply sat there a long moment, watching Octavia’s closed eyes and stilled chest.

Then he wiped his tears and stood. Casting a furtive glance around, he tiptoed to where the Tenth Symphony lay, still on the ground from Tirek’s tantrum.

Discord picked it up, tucked it under his arm, and disappeared with an echoing laugh.

Comments

[Pascoite]

Caught a couple of mistake words in there. You have a "hawked" where it should be "hocked," and there's a "lunched" that could have been intended either as "launched" or "lurched."

[Rune Soldier Dan]

11530777
Thank you, they are fixed.

[Ice Star]

That was insanely clever of Discord and excellent work with the bargaining scene.

[TheInfamousFly]

When Discord kicked open the door I burst out laughing.