//------------------------------// // Snapped Strings // Story: Symphony for Moon and Sun // by GrassAndClouds2 //------------------------------// As the concert neared, Octavia continued to practice in the tower room, working out and refining the ending. It would be the most difficult movement she ever played. Innumerable voices, and they all had to be exactly right. Failure was, for every reason, not an option. This is the most important performance of my whole career. Lyra’s fate, and mine, depend on this. I will not allow myself to fail. The burglar hadn’t come back since she’d shouted some sense into Octavia, even though Octavia had put the little piece of parchment out the window indicating that she wanted to speak with her. But the cellist had a feeling that the burglar would be at the concert. I don’t know how, but she knows about music. I think she’ll be able to appreciate what I do. Octavia frowned as one of her notes came out a trifle fast, went back, and played through the section again. I am playing for the princess. It must be perfect. And she smiled. And it will be. I am one of the best cellists in the country, and I have my friends at my back. I will defeat you, Greengrass. Lyra Heartstrings had planned on taking a tour of her favorite shops, parks, and restaurants from her Academy days, but she found herself too jittery to appreciate any of it. So, rather than waste her time and her bits on entertainment that she wouldn’t enjoy, she picked a park and began to play. “Hey,” a guard called as her lyre appeared before her. “No busking without a license.” “I’m not busking,” she said. “I’m not collecting money. Just staying in practice.” Soon, she had an appreciable crowd around her. She smiled, playing a fast and excited piece she’d learned at the Academy. Soon, many of the audience members – especially the foals – were clapping their hooves in time to the music, which Lyra incorporated into her performance to get some syncopation effects. I’m not worried, she thought. Well… maybe just a little. But Octavia can do it. I believe in her. She sped up a little, and a few of the ponies around her – a couple of teenage ponies, clearly on some kind of date – began to dance in time with the music. She grinned and added a more obvious dance beat. Music, she thought, had a magical quality all of its own. Surely it could move even an ageless alicorn. “Now,” said Blueblood, looking at the unicorns and earth ponies in front of him, “Here are your orders.” The leader of the quartet, a wiry unicorn named Emoter, nodded brusquely. “Yes sir.” Blueblood continued in a calm, steady voice. “Emoter. You will use your magic on Octavia to charm her. You will then lead her without harming her to the warehouse, where you will keep her thus charmed until after the beginning of the concert.” He looked at the other unicorn. “Mirage. If Octavia has bodyguards or other ponies with her, use your illusions to distract and separate them until Emoter has charmed Octavia and removed her from the scene. And you two,” he nodded at the earth ponies, “Keep the unicorns safe and make sure no other faction seizes Octavia. If any other noble tries to intervene by sending thugs, you can hurt them, and only them.” Emoter inclined her head. “Yes, sir. We’ll get her.” “Let me make one thing very clear.” Blueblood nodded sharply. “It must look like Octavia did not show up due to her own choice. Restraint marks, bruises, anything like that will ruin the illusion. And don’t think I’ll go to bat for you if that happens.” “Sir, we’re professionals,” said Heavy. “We can capture her without leaving a mark. You can count on it.” “Couldn’t we just steal her cello?” asked Mirage. “She can’t play without it, right?” “I have reason to believe, from the information Greengrass gave me a few weeks ago, that her green friend can summon instruments magically,” said Blueblood. “So, no, that won’t work. Restrain her. Hide her. Don’t let her reach the concert hall.” “Yes sir!” said the four ponies. Blueblood smiled and dismissed them. He wished he could see the look on Greengrass’s face when he found out that his plans were ruined. “Sir, I have news.” Greengrass yawned as he awoke. It was mid-afternoon; a bit early for him, but then again, Notary would only awake him for important information that couldn’t wait. “What is it, Notary?” “I just received word from Viscount Blueblood’s hoofmare. Blueblood is going to interfere with Philharmonica’s concert. He’s hired Heavy Hitter, Emoter, and a few other mercenaries to prevent her from reaching the concert hall in time.” Greengrass paused – and then burst into laughter. “Why in Equestria would he do that?” “He seems to think he will be thwarting a scheme of yours.” “By causing exactly the outcome that I want?” Greengrass began to get out of bed. “Well, I suppose I can’t blame him for not knowing that. Still, bad move on his part. Now if this plan gets exposed, we can pin the blame on him.” “Sir, if Philharmonica has a reason not to make the concert – namely, being abducted – she could get out of the performance without losing face.” Notary inclined her head at the door. “I can send Ox and Bear to head them off.” “No, don’t. If I send my agents to help her, that implies that I’m backing her and helping her with the concert that Luna hates. It would be a great excuse for Luna to blacklist me and have me shut out of Court life.” He shook his head. “Besides, the whole point here is that I’m firing Octavia. It would defeat the point if I helped her now.” Notary paused. “And if, say, Heavy Hitter has Octavia tied up in a warehouse somewhere, and she is discovered? Or if he makes a mistake and leaves proof of the abduction, such as by tying ropes around her legs and leaving marks? It could give her enough of an excuse to prevent Luna from shunning her.” “…I don’t think that will be a concern.” Greengrass rose and approached the door. “First of all, Heavy and Emoter are reasonably competent. Screwing up like that might happen, but it’s unlikely. Second, that would only come out later. At the concert itself, Octavia would fail to appear, and she’d be condemned by Luna and the Court. She could only get out from under that if somepony proclaimed far and wide what happened, and why that meant it wasn’t her fault.” He smiled thinly. “She has no political allies to make that argument for her, and we know that she would never make it herself. She won’t excuse any failure of hers; this one will be no different.” Notary nodded. “But I do hope she manages to give them the slip, though. Either way, her career is over – and Lulamoon gets the message – but, all else being equal,” and he smiled like a foal at Hearth’s Warming Eve, “I would love to hear that Symphony performed by such a master. They say it’s one of the most beautiful pieces ever written, and it’s not been performed in seventy years. Oh, were the Elements to be delivered to me on a silver platter – but could only be signed for just as Octavia began that piece – I would be hard pressed to choose.” He got up and began trotting towards the door. “I trust you have something to wear?” “Yes, sir. Although it does seem a waste to get dressed up for a show that might not happen.” “Ah ah, Notary, that’s not quite right. The music might not happen, but either way, Luna is going to have a very interesting reaction. I think we’ll be in for a show regardless.” Night fell, and the concert approached. Octavia checked her watch. It was 8. The concert began at 10. It took about twenty minutes to walk from her current location – the castle drawbridge – to the concert hall,. Factoring in time for tuning, warming-up, possible emergencies, and her own desire to arrive at any venue substantially before she needed to… she had to leave within two minutes. She smiled. She knew that she should be worried, but she felt a deep joy instead. Whatever happened afterwards, she was playing a beautiful work – and for the audience that she’d always wanted to play for, the princess of Equestria herself. And she had her friends at her back. That mattered. She began to trot towards the concert hall, cello in its case and safely strapped to her back. It was a beautiful night and she wanted to listen to the city before she reached the venue. As much as she loved sunrise, there was also something lovely about the first few hours of the night in Canterlot. The day businesses were closed, but those that served the Court and its Courtiers were just opening up. There was a bustling sound to everything. As she walked down a wide street, passing by the familiar shops and restaurants, she felt a slight twinge from the back of her head. Great. A headache is just what I need. She smiled. Then again, that’s why I practice even when I’m sick. I’ve given concerts with colds or aches before. This isn’t— Doom. Octavia blinked. Where had that word come from? She hadn’t heard it. Some stray thought, she supposed, from when she had been worried about Lyra leaving and— You’re doomed. Was somepony sending those thoughts to her? “Stop that,” she snapped, looking around. Was it just her, or did it seem… darker, somehow? Like the streetlamps, and even the stars, had dimmed. But it’s okay. You deserve to fail. This is just. “Stop it!” She tried to go faster, but her legs felt oddly frozen. She couldn’t do more than stumble a few steps. “I will call the guards. I will—“ Whatever else she would do would never be known, because that bizarre numbness reached her mouth. She sagged, struggling just to remain upright. You’re a hopeless failure. You deserve nothing but destitution and disgrace. How could a depraved pony like you hope to look Luna in the eye? And she was seeing images that weren’t really there, memories from when she’d agreed to work for Greengrass, from when she’d agreed to bring Lyra back to Canterlot. From when she’d thrown Lyra out of her practice room. “Get… get away…” she hissed, struggling to take another step. Why was it so dark? “I’m over this…” A friendless traitor like you? No. You’ve still got just enough honesty to know the depths of your degraded character. The voice was booming in her mind, seeming to absorb all her other thoughts. She couldn’t form a plan, couldn’t even think to call for help. It was like whoever was doing this was hijacking all her mental energy to castigate her. “Get out of… of my head…” she managed. I don’t think so, Tavi. You can’t get rid of me. Maybe you can ignore me for a while, but I’ll always be there. Even if you scam your way to some reward or renown, I’ll make sure you know you don’t deserve it. The last words echoed in Octavia’s head, drowning out her increasingly feeble protest. She raised a hoof, but then lowered it back down. She couldn’t seem to go forward. Her entire mind was shouting at her not to bother, that it didn’t matter, that she didn’t deserve to take even one more step. So she only stood there, staring at nightmares. “Nice work,” said Heavy Hitter. “Took a while, though.” “She’s beyond stubborn,” hissed Emoter. Her horn was glowing, a bright fiery red. “Mare’s got a hard head to crack.” “Is she ours, now?” “Well, you – urgh – you won’t be able to get her to assassinate anypony or jump off a bridge, but yeah, she’ll follow you into a locked closet somewhere. Not enough left in her head to care that it’s a bad idea.” Heavy Hitter approached Octavia. “Hey, sis?” He waved a hoof in front of her. “Sis?” A guard was walking by. “Is she okay?” “Sorry. My sister gets like this sometimes. Ever since Corona’s return… well, we’re getting her treatment” Heavy Hitter shook his head. “Come on, sis. Let me walk you home.” He began leading her away, off the main road. She followed docilely. “Hey, Tower. Get her cello, would you?” said Heavy, as the guard moved away. Tower, the other earth pony in the group, carefully unstrapped it from Octavia’s back. The mare gave no more than a feeble protest, which quieted as Emoter redoubled her spell. Mirage approached as well. “Where do you want it?” Heavy Hitter thought. “Away from her, where she can’t get it even if she somehow escapes, but where it won’t be damaged. You know what? Just put it in Canterlot Bank.” “…the bank?” “Yeah, get a safe deposit box and store it there. We’ll leave the key with her once we clear out.” “Right, boss.” Tower hefted the cello. “Wow. This thing’s heavy.” “Just move it,” said Heavy. “Then meet us at the warehouse. We’ll stay there until just after 10, then clear out. Let’s go.” Heavy led Octavia down into a side street. The unicorns followed.