Vinyl struck the pony-shaped sandbag with her rear hooves as hard as she could again. At first, she was involuntarily taking count but had lost track of her kicks at fifty, and it had been a while since then. Amidst the sound of her bucking the inanimate pony, which may have been about to burst from the continuous punishment, she gave no thought to the sounds of ten or so other ponies firing magic blasts at targets on the right side of the firing range. Another bead of sweat rolled from her dampened coat as she looked behind herself, reared up, and slammed the bag once more.
She paused, breathing heavily. Then, looking up, she saw the gray earth pony standing at the front of her stall. The two stared at each other for a moment, Vinyl’s face showing a mix of exhaustion and frustration, and Octavia’s showing nervousness and betraying a hint of hurt. The gray mare’s hooves were fumbling with each other. Seeing this, Vinyl said through a breath, “I’m sorry I exploded like that.”
Octavia found her voice. “No, it’s all right. I’m the one who came to apologize.”
Vinyl sank back on her haunches, her flanks touching the cool, stone floor. “Don’t even bother. I have problems with my past family life, but it wasn’t right for me to take them out on you.”
The gray pony made her way over to Vinyl and sat in front of her. Her nervous features changed to compassionate ones, and she said “Vinyl, I know we are not the best of friends just yet, but if you have anything that you would like to talk about, you can talk to me. It’s not good to keep these things inside.”
The white mare sighed. “Don’t worry about me. I’m where I am because it had to be that way and because of my own mess-ups. I may have got you into one of my problems, but you don’t deserve to have to deal with all them.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t get out of them. I’m reminded every day that I wasn’t born into a noble family, but just because my father wasn’t a noble, it doesn’t mean I’m doomed.”
The unicorn snorted, but more out of amusement than annoyance. “I was going to ask about that. What’s up with your fascination with the aristocrats?”
Octavia stood up on her four hooves. “Forgive me if this seems odd, but have you had a shower today?”
Vinyl raised her eyebrow. “What?”
“We’re going to be here for almost three months. Do you want to get a feel for the facilities here before we get into a long conversation, or do you want to sit there with sweat rolling off of you?” This thought jogged Vinyl’s memory. It had been a while since she had enjoyed that comfort.
Having found Crush and asking her for a bathroom, they were led down the hallways to a sliding screen door on the third floor. The blue unicorn slid open the door, revealing a very spacious room with water. It appeared to be a very large swimming pool to Vinyl.
Seeing this interior, Octavia gave a small gasp in delight. “Ooh, it’s a Neighponese style bathroom!” she said stepping through the threshold. The “swimming pool” was surrounded by four walls of paintings painted in the style of feudal Neighpon. Vinyl stepped in after her and admired the artwork for a moment. The mural depicted the average life of ponies fishing, planting rice and flaunting flowing clothes out in the marketplace. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the clear sky at midday, and the floors were laid with white tiles, gradually slanting towards a drain near the edge of the gigantic tub. On the entrance’s wall there was a row of showerheads. Each one was coupled with a set of toiletries, decorated towels of three sizes, and a light pink stool.
“Wow,” the white unicorn said. “This is pretty nice. I've never seen a bath that big.”
“Yes,” Octavia responded. “For the nobles in Neighpon, this is actually common. Come, over here.” she said, beckoning. The blue-maned mare trotted over to Octavia, and seeing that they were pleased enough, Crush took her leave. The gray mare turned the knob on one of the showerheads in the center and said, “Let’s rinse off and wash first.” Then, after testing the water, she sat down and let the water run over her.
Turning on the faucet adjacent to the left of Octavia, Vinyl likewise sat, letting the cool water douse her hair and run down her coat. After her rage-induced exercise, the frigid water shocked her, but she endured the rapid cool-down. When she became reaccustomed to the feeling, she glanced over at Octavia who had already touched her hooves to the shampoo dispenser on her left. Following suite, the unicorn pumped out a liberal amount of shampoo and, closing her eyes, began to lather her hair. The pleasant smell of cherry blossoms soon filled her nostrils.
She finished washing her mane and rinsed it. Then she pressed the soap dispenser above the shampoo dispenser and washed her body. When she was nearly done, she looked over at Octavia, who had just started to wash her coat. It was at this point that a word that she seldom used came to mind, beautiful. The earth pony’s long, black mane was now wet and thus completely straight. The water reflected the light of the sun on the ceiling, accenting her mane into a rich and pure but sparkling black. The white mare thought that it complemented her sleek, gray coat well. Her coat, when it was rinsed free of the obscuring white suds, went very well with her light-mulberry cutie mark, which in turn matched her soft eyes perfectly, which were now gazing straight into her own. Realizing that she was staring, she looked away quickly, and started to wash her coat again.
Octavia gave a light laugh and said, “Your mane looks very nice when it’s wet Vinyl.”
Washing herself, she replied, “Oh, thanks. I kind of like it the way it usually is, but yours looks really nice too.”
“Thank you Vinyl. I guess you’re right. You can look good either way.”
When the two had finished washing, Octavia bade her to come over to the pool, which Vinyl now saw was steaming. After her friend, Vinyl stepped into the almost uncomfortably hot water, made even hotter by the cold shower she had just finished. She found that the bath was just deep enough to sink down to her chin if she was in a sitting position. Keeping on the edge, she gradually eased herself into the hot bath and leaned again the back with her head leaned back.
Her body adapted, and she he noticed that the water which was hot before was now a sea of delight. It seemed like forever since she had enjoyed a bath, and even longer since she had, had a hot one. She could feel her tense joints and muscles relaxing more and more by the second, and knowing that she was completely safe in the walls of the safe house, she could finally give herself away to the bliss that had been denied her for so long. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the peace and quiet.
After a while of lying in peace, Octavia, who was close to her on the left side of the bath, said, “So Vinyl, you were asking about my concern with the aristocracy?”
Slowly opening her eyes and lifting her head to face her friend, she answered, “Yeah. You seemed to speak a lot about them.”
“Well, are you in the mood for a story?”
She lay back again. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“As you may have guessed by my accent, I grew up in a small town in Germaney. My family didn’t have too much money to live on, but somehow we always made due. My father himself was only a servant to the prince of the region, and he was always whining about how our family didn’t deserve to be in servitude. Meanwhile, I had a few worries of my own. It took me a little longer than most fillies to earn my cutie mark. When I was just entering adolescence, my parents started to get a little anxious, but unlike most, they didn’t make me try a lot of new things. Instead, they introduced me to all the colts in the town. I made friends with a few of them.
“After a while though, my mother started asking me if I would ever like to marry any of them. I hadn’t started liking colts yet, so I said I wouldn’t. Then she gave me a sad smile and said, ‘Well, maybe someday you’ll think differently.’ I couldn’t understand why she looked sad.
“Then one night when I was supposed to be sleeping, I snuck out of bed and eavesdropped on my parents talking in the kitchen. My father was talking in a voice that almost made him sound scared. ‘What are we going to do about her?’ he asked.
“And my mother said could only say, ‘Maybe her special talent doesn’t have anything to do with stallions. Maybe she’s going to be something better than a housewife. We can’t make these things happen the way they’re not supposed to.’
“‘I know darling, but she’s our only foal, the sole heir to von Weber name. If she passes without bearing another, the last hope for our family’s resurrection will be lost. I just know that a day will come when we’ll finally be rich and powerful again, just like our forefather. Only in order for that day to come, our family line must go on.’ My father said that with such desperation in his voice, that I felt I had to help him. If me liking colts had something to do with making my father happy, I would do it. It would be another year before I really started eying a few though, so it was hard for a while.
“I was thirteen when the prince of the town decided to build a music hall, and around the time that my birthday was approaching, it was finished. So on my fourteenth birthday, I went to the music hall. It wasn’t too big, just enough to hold a hundred ponies. The musicians were mediocre at best and I was a little bored most of the way through the performance.” Octavia paused and her eyes glazed over for a moment as if she were remembering the scene.
Then she smiled and said in a whisper, “But then she came. There was a mare who came on stage with an oversized violin, which I later found out to be a cello. She moved her bow across the instrument, and then in no time at all, I was captivated by its sound. Now that I’ve been playing for a while, I know that she hadn’t been for very long, but what I heard still sounded heavenly. It was like the very contents of her heart were being poured out for me to feel. I could hear, feel, and taste her wonderful emotion swirling around me.” She paused once more, obviously playing the music over again in her head.
“It was that night that I realized that I had a lot of pent up emotion myself. I was angry at the prince for making my father unhappy, and angry at my parents for wanting me to live their dream. But I was also sad for those same reasons, and I longed to make my parents proud of me. I was tired of being poor and tired of dealing with the prince who lorded himself over our region. But as far as I could see, there was nothing I could do about it, and I started to cry softly. But before I became too overwhelmed, I remembered how the cellist played the cello and how she produced such passionate music.
“It was at this point that I finally realized that what I really wanted to do. I wanted to learn how to play the cello just like she could, and then,” she said, pointing to the treble clefts on her flanks partially visible through the water, “this mark appeared. The next morning, I did my best to try and hide my new cutie marks, but by the time my dad got home from work, my parents both found out. I thought that they would be angry at first, but to my surprise, my father was overjoyed. He jumped up and shouted, ‘My lovely daughter has a music cutie mark! Praise Celestia!’ In fact, he was so ecstatic that he threw a big party for me and invited all my friends. Going into debt was beyond him, so I knew that somepony was going to go without food for a while, but he told me that there was no way he wasn’t going to through a party for his daughter’s cute-ceañera.
“I was even more confused when he took a second job at night to put me through music-school. I asked him why he was going so far for me, and he answered, ‘Because I want my favorite daughter to grow up to be much less of an old, unhappy pony than I turned out to be,’ and I was so grateful and proud to be his daughter. When I finally became a professional musician, I thought that I would live in lavishness, but it turns out that unlike the old days with Marezart and Neightoven, classical musicians are treated as little more than servants nowadays. The best job I could get would be as a court musician, but I knew that would disappoint my father. Moreover, I would never get to play for anypony else but the noble who hired me, and I wanted the whole world to hear my music. Still, my father was proud of me.
“He was so happy that I was doing what I wanted, and he wasn’t unhappy that I was in no better social standing than he was. So I made a resolution that I was going to maintain my station as a free and independent mare. I became a musician for hire, and ever since have been trying to play at enough important events to be noticed. Maybe someday some rich pony will become my patron, and I’ll become famous enough to start producing and playing my own music. Hopefully, when that time comes, the nobles will finally stop looking down on me like I’m not good for anything as they did for my father and as they are doing to me now.”
A final time Octavia paused and then summed up. “I suppose to answer your question, I’m fascinated with the nobles because I want people to look at me like I am one someday. But what keeps pushing me even through this restricted life is what my father did for me. I know that he wanted me to bear a son for him, but when he knew what I wanted, he supported me all the way, even though it would make me almost more of a servant than he was. Even when I wanted to give up, because of how hard it was to learn to play, he just told me, ‘Octavia, my dearest daughter, if becoming a good cello player was easy, everypony would do it, and then it would have no value. That is what makes how hard this is worth it. Every challenge carries with it a prize of far greater value, but your efforts will not produce that prize until you refuse to give up.’ So, I’ve been trying to grasp that prize ever since.” And Octavia fell silent.
The themes in Octavia’s narrative were foreign to Vinyl, but it was still fair to say that she could understand them. For a moment, she churned the story in her head and tried to make greater sense of it for herself. “It sounds like you want to live your life without anybody telling you what you can and can’t do, but you also want to pay back to your dad for supporting you.”
“That is the substance of it, more or less.” the gray mare replied.
“Well, from what I’ve heard, you aren’t really doing that. You’re still a servant to that bossy manager of yours.”
“That must be the sacrifice I have to make.”
“But what if this guy is actually holding you down? What if you could do much better without him?”
The earth pony sighed. “Without him I wouldn’t be able to play anywhere, much less at the Grand Galloping Gala. Unfortunately going to certain events is dependent upon connections, which I have too little of.”
Vinyl clicked her teeth. “Well, if you’re set on it, can’t you at least assert yourself a little? How much are you paying him anyway?”
“Fifty percent.”
“Fifty percent!” Vinyl said, raising her voice. “When you do all the work? For Luna’s sake, you should be making at least seventy. Why do you put up with that?”
“I’ve already told you: He’s the only one I can go to. There are not many more ponies who are willing to do what he does for me.”
“Look, you’ve got to stop playing on the defensive. The way I see it, you don’t need him as much as he needs you.”
“What do you mean? There are plenty more ponies like me that would gladly take my position.”
“But not too many that would take the crap he dishes out to you.” Octavia did not reply to this. In fact, she wasn’t really sure she could. For all she knew, Vinyl actually could have been right. Seeing that her friend was now battling with this idea in mind, she qualified, “I’m not telling you to start acting like he’s your servant, but if you don’t start taking something back from this guy, you’re going to be old, tired, and still in the same position as you are now.”
She sighed. “I know, Vinyl, but it’s just been this way my whole life. My parents did love me, but even they were always pretty invasive, for better or worse. I’ve always known it in my heart, but my brain didn’t realize it until just recently.”
The unicorn scooted along the edge and put her hoof on the black-maned mare’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it now though. We’re going to be here for a while, it sounds like.”
Octavia was staring quietly at her reflection now. “Right.” She replied softly.
Vinyl searched for something to say that was non-confrontational. Then it hit her. For some reason she had not noticed it, but she was starving. “When was the last time we ate?”
Her friend looked up and blinked. “Oh Celestia, I think all I’ve had in a while where those chocolates early this afternoon.”
“So, it’s getting hot in here anyway. Do you want to go get some solid food?”
“Let’s do, please.”
When they called, Love Struck answered and led them through the halls to one of the several dining rooms. “This isn’t the most exorbitant one we have, but the family dines in that one, so I believe that you both would prefer this one as a suitable substitute.” she said. Though, despite her apologetic tone, this dining room was by no means modest. The walls were opulently decorated in a classical style with white paint and gold lining. Many paintings of members of the Machiavelli clan framed in gold adorned them. The floor was covered with a royal blue carpet, boasting intertwining, white vines. A painting of an ornately detailed map on the ceiling displayed a vast kingdom to the west of Equestria.
A royal blue cloth, having the Ulrich and Machiavelli coats of arms emblazoned upon it, covered the circular table that seated twelve. At Love Struck’s gesture, the two ponies sat down. Vinyl faced a wide, hanging mirror to Octavia’s back. The pink unicorn then asked, “So, will you two have lunch?”
The earth pony answered, “It’s not too late in the afternoon. Let’s do that.” and Vinyl agreed. In response, Love Struck’s horn lit up with a pink aura and suddenly there was a flash that blinded the two. When the light faded, Vinyl looked at the table and saw that it was now set elegantly. Fancy golden silverware and ornate dishes, bowls, and glasses were filled with food and drink that she had not eaten in a long time. “As you can see, the cooks prepared a lovely meal for the two of you in addition to the usual serving for the house. The water was imported this morning from Prance by teleportation for freshness and filtrated to ensure the highest quality. The wine also came from Prance, but for you two, a special bottle has been opened, which we saved for a particularly special occasion. The assorted flower petals come from many different locations, but are all likewise fresh, as is the case with the salad and soup.”
Vinyl blinked. “You could have just given us a few apples, and we would have been fine.” Octavia giggled, maybe out of agreement.
“I only followed Mister Midnight’s instructions.”
“We will have to thank him when he returns then.” the gray pony said.
Love Struck smiled. “Is everything to your liking, or do you prefer something else?”
The white unicorn answered, “No, this is great.”
“Very well. After you are done, simply say so. The spell I cast is set to then automatically conjure the next course, and, following its completion, it will bring out dessert. Would you like me to remain, or do you need help with anything else?”
“I think we’re good.” Vinyl replied. The servant then bowed on her forelegs and left. At this, Vinyl said, “All right, let’s eat.” Her companion agreed, and they both started on the soup in front of them. To Vinyl’s gratitude, it was filled with potatoes and carrots rather than just leafy vegetables.
After they had both made way into their meals, Octavia said, “So, Vinyl, you’ve spoken a deal about your musical career. Is there any chance that you would be willing to share some of your own music some time?”
Vinyl looked up from her salad. She had the idea that the musical interests between Octavia and herself did not completely align, but her friend was going to figure that out eventually. She saw no issue with bringing it to light now. “Uh, actually, yeah. Here, let me…” Her horn flashed and her touch-screen computer appeared on a blank space to her left. “… just play some for you now.” She could have done so with her hoof, but in order to keep eating, she navigated through the interface with her horn, passing by some password prompts and scrolling through some folders to look for her music. “Here we go, she said after a moment.” She double-clicked an .mp3 track she had modified not too long ago.
The track started slowly and simply with just a kick and snare pattern, but soon cymbals were added. Then, before long there were a modulated bass, which left the rhythm spaceless. Octavia’s face showed skepticism, but an eagerness to hear more. Slowly, there was an electronic series of higher pitched beats building up a tense progression, and with it a punctuating and heavily synthetic keyboard. And here we go, Vinyl thought. Her heaviest base drop to date ensued, being harsh and unmitigated. The white unicorn suddenly forgot about Octavia and was enveloped in her own creation. Its power and resounding beat struck her eardrums in just the right places. Euphoria washed over her with thoughts of steel and steam and might and speed. She lost sight of the timer and forgot how long this would last, and as the track continued, she lost herself as well.
Some time after she had passed through fire and water. The song calmed down to kicks and snares and faded out. With the silence, Vinyl came back down to earth and looked at Octavia. The black-maned mare’s reaction was almost predictable. She was blushing with a nervous smile on her face. When she saw her friend was waiting for a response, she said, “Well, that was certainly … lively.”
“But not for you, right?” When it was clear from her silence that Octavia did not want to offend her, the unicorn laughed and said. “I didn’t think so. That’s all right with me though. Everypony’s different.”
“Well, it’s not that it was bad or anything. It’s just that the music I like and am used to is much more structured.”
Vinyl knew but asked, “How so?”
“I studied musical theory for a while in tandem with learning to play the cello, and that music doesn’t seem to follow many of the standard rules of music.”
Not offensively the blue-maned mare returned, “So you’re saying that wasn’t music.”
“No, that’s not what I said at all. Most of it was just a tad simpler. It was a bit repetitive towards the end, and there were really only three distinct parts —two of which were repeated— but the buildup in the beginning was very good.”
“So music has to be complicated to be good?”
This seemed to inspire Octavia to a positive offensive position for debate. “Not necessarily. There’s a school of music called minimalism, which asserts the opposite.”
“So what does make good music then?” With this, the two resumed eating. Octavia answered, and Vinyl asked about that answer. This continued until Octavia found a question to ask Vinyl and she answered in turn. This continued on through the afternoon. After they finished the flower petals, there was a flash, and a delicious vegetable lasagna came to them. After finishing that, they delightedly feasted on gourmet chocolates and Death-by-Chocolate cake. The falling sun and rising moon escaped Vinyl’s notice and she assumed her friend’s as well, because both of them excitedly spoke through the evening and into the night.
“To me,” the gray pony later said. “Music is a tool that orders emotion. It lets out feelings of anger, happiness, and sadness. It even allows those who hear it to understand, and you don’t have to be intelligent or learned to understand it. It’s like a universal language.”
“But the music you’re talking about doesn’t sound emotional at all. It’s too stuffy. I don’t get how anyone can blow off steam replaying Marezart.”
“Well, it’s like what you were doing earlier when you were angry. You could have attacked me and done real damage, but because you were reasonable, you did not. You went and orderly released your anger onto a practice dummy. Classical and Romantic music is the same. We exert passion, and we even experiment, but we do it intelligently and while trying to keep some rules constant.”
“But that’s just it. If you really want to create good music and release all the pent-up emotion, you have to get rid of all the boundaries. If you throw out options, then aren’t you losing out on something that you could possibly make something great with?”
At this time, Octavia was about to reply, but had to first stifle a yawn. She then looked over and realized that the clock, which they had been ignoring, read four in the morning. “Oh, it’s getting very late and as riveting as this conversation is, I’m becoming a little tired. I confess that I’m not used to staying up for this long.”
Vinyl glanced over too. “So what? Go drink some coffee or something. We can sleep later.”
“No, no, I think we should retire now. We need to keep our strength up for the unexpected.”
“Unexpected?”
“You know what I mean.”
“For Luna’s sake Octavia, McCullen’s not going to come for me now. This place is like a castle.”
She yawned again, this time not bothering to extend courtesy. “I know; I just want to be prudent.”
The white mare suddenly realized that she was tired as well, but was too excited to care. Yet, her companion did not appear ready to continue amusing her. “All right,” she said rolling her eyes. “I’ll let the little filly trot off to bed.”
The gray pony shrugged at Vinyl’s playfulness, and stepped out. Vinyl followed suite and took a separate route after a minute’s walk. She chose a room, dove into the bed, and passed out.
♦ ♦ ♦
The blue, gray-maned pegasus knocked on the hotel door. After a moment, a unicorn cracked it open and peered at him. “Are you Shadow?” the unicorn asked.
“That’s me.” the pegasus responded. The door shut and he could hear a lock moving out of place. It opened again to reveal the unicorn dressed in combat gear along with several others in the back.
“Shadow,” one of them said heartily. “How nice of ye to join us. Come on inside.” The pegasus did and looked around. His eyes opened wide when he saw a six-foot tall unicorn with a white mane. “Ye haven’t met Punisher, have ye Shadow? He’s been helping us out with the plannin’. I hope the flight went well, by the way.”
Shadow took his eyes away from the sight. “It did. The skies were clear all the way from Neighpon. You’re quite lucky to have me here so fast.”
“Indeed I am, my boy. But there wasn’t any time to waste. We’ve got to get started real’ soon.” He looked at the unicorn that had let him inside. “Witch, bring ‘em up to speed.”
“Right,” he said with a Trottinghamian accent. “Two days ago, McCullen tasked us with securing a high-value target, a white unicorn, with a blue mane called Vinyl Scratch, also known as DJ Pon3. She boarded a train bound for Manehatten, and we moved in to intercept her. We were able to capture ’er, but she escaped when we arrived in the city, because of the intervention of a gray, black-maned earth pony by the name of Octavia von Weber. We’ve gathered that the earth pony did not act with premeditation and has no skill in dealing with combat situations. Vinyl Scratch, on the other hoof, has exceptional skill with parkour honed from no less than five years of experience, similar to what the Royal Equestrian Army gains in ten years.
“She and Octavia were airlifted to a safe house in Fillydelphia that is under the control of the Machivelli Clan of Canterlot, which is protecting her. The safe house is heavily guarded and secured by layers of state-of-the-art enchantments as well as an estimated one hundred trained guards. Because you specialize in the penetration of secure areas with stealth and discretion, we’ve called you in to aid in securing Vinyl Scratch.”
Swift Shadow smirked. “Give me the details, but I’ll get in no matter what they put in my way.”