Dysphoria, Arc 0: Octavia

by thedarkprep

(Y1) 1. New Horizons

Year 1:

1. New Horizons

“So, you promise you’ll write?”

Octavia chose not to respond, continuing instead to drink from the water fountain. She swore she could feel each individual droplet as it traversed down her throat, cooling her, albeit briefly, from the scorching summer heat.

“Will you answer me?” the filly asked. “It’s not like they won’t serve you drinks on the train ride; no need to drink up the station’s water supply.”

Octavia allowed herself one last gulp of water before wiping her muzzle against her hoof.

“Sorry Vinyl,” Octavia began. “It’s just this heat. The air is muggy enough as it is and the steam from the train isn’t helping things.”

“Muggy?” Vinyl repeated as the two fillies walked back towards the waiting train. “That’s a new word; you’ll be talking like those Canterlot ponies, all snobby-like, if you keep it up.”

“No Vinyl, that’s not a new word, and certainly not one only used by nobles,” Octavia replied. “Furthermore, I think that’s what you meant to say, nobles, as I doubt that every pony in Canterlot uses words that you would deem ‘snobbish.’”

“See, you did it again with ‘furthermore’ Octi,” Vinyl continued.

“I really need to get you a thesaurus,” Octavia said, shaking her head.

“Yes, yes,” Vinyl said. “You can make it my birthday present. Now will you please answer the question?”

Octavia continued walking in silence until she arrived at the actual platform, suddenly turning and enveloping her friend in a tight hug. Vinyl, though caught off-guard, allowed herself to melt into her friend’s embrace. Before long, the two began to cry.

“Of course I’m going to write, Vinyl,” Octavia said, trying hard to maintain some composure. “You have no idea how much I’m going to miss you.”

Octavia waited for a response, smiling as she heard her friend fighting to keep her sniffles in check.

“I should be going with you,” Vinyl said. “Just you watch – I’m going to apply for Spring enrollment. There’s no way they won’t let me in, and then you won’t have to be up there all alone.”

“I hope that works out Vinyl, I really do,” Octavia said, sighing.

“But?”

“But, as impressive as your ability to control sound with your magic is, you still need to find an instrument you can play to be admitted,” Octavia finished.

“And you’re supposed to be a unicorn to be admitted, but that didn’t seem to stop you, did it?” Vinyl retorted. “I’ll get in, Octi, just you wait. Then everything will be perfect.”

The two tightened their hug as the train’s whistle blew, signaling that it was time to board.

“Oh will you two calm down? It’s not like it’ll be long before you two see each other again.”

Octavia broke the hug, turning to look at the approaching figure of her mother.

“I mean seriously, it’s only five months before you come back for Hearth’s Warming break. Besides, it’s not like Ponyville is that far away.”

“Yeah, maybe you could visit sometime before then too,” Vinyl chimed in.

“Yes..” Octavia’s mother mumbled, shifting as she did so. “That is certainly a possibility as well…”

Octavia smiled at the thought, despite knowing it could not be.

“We’ll see,” she commented, sparing her mother further explanation. “It might not be possible because of my schedule once classes start, but we’ll see. At least we’ll still have letters.”

“Final call for boarding!”

Octavia turned to look at the train attendant, whose yell had rung through the station, turning back only to be picked up in her mother’s embrace.

“Please write to me as well, ok?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“All your stuff should already be in your room, don’t forget to check in as soon as you get there, and have all your papers with you at all times until you get your key.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And I know money’s tight right now, but if you need anything do not hesitate to ask. Your dad and I will make sure you have everything you need.”

“I know, Mom, thank you.”

“Oh,” she uttered, squeezing her daughter tighter. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

The mother and daughter broke their embrace, fresh tears on both their faces. Octavia then tightened the strap on her saddlebag and walked into the train. Once inside, she found a vacant seat next to a window from which she desperately tried to find her mother and Vinyl in order to wave goodbye. And yet this would not be, as the platform was too crowded, and before long the train began to move, leaving the town of Ponyville behind.

Octavia was officially alone.

She spent little time admiring the admittedly luxurious train cart she inhabited, choosing instead to stare out the window again while slouching in her seat, shouldering the weight of isolation. Images rushed past the train, or the train rushed past them, further separating Octavia from all that she had ever known and thrusting her towards a world in which she was no one, a fact of which she was all too aware. Try as she might she could not see the countryside, just the escalating miles set to the rhythm of the engine’s chug.

“No time for that now,” she thought, wiping the moisture from her eyes. Without thinking she looked through her saddlebag, sifting through notebooks, her train ticket, and other assortments of papers until she found the two letters from the Academy, looking past her certificate of acceptance and instead pulling out their original rejection letter. This calmed her nerves. According to that letter she had not been what they were looking for, a fact they “regretted” to inform her of, and while they assured her that she would continue to be ‘under consideration’ should there be an opening, they were not able to extend an offer to her at that time.

“But here I am,” she mumbled. That letter had been the one she had expected coming out of the audition, the one she had resigned herself to accept. And yet, the second had arrived weeks later, granting her the chance once denied at what she knew to be another ‘acceptee’s’ expense. Octavia shivered as she thought the word ‘expense’, an almost mystical taboo often found in her home around the end of each month. Something that was always present and never spoken of. She had been granted this gift at another’s expense and as she nodded to herself, she decided to not muddy said favor with fear, doubt, or anything short of the gratitude it deserved.

Once everything was back in her bag, the filly made herself comfortable, deciding that the long journey would be more enjoyable sans consciousness. And so, she allowed the gentle friction of the train against the tracks to rock her to a comfortable sleep.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Octavia blushed as she picked herself off the ground, dusting off her saddlebag before addressing the unicorn.

“I’m sorry sir, I was just distracted by-“

“Sorry? Of course you’re sorry. Your lot is always sorry,” the unicorn interrupted. “The problem is not that you do not apologize; the problem is that you caused this mess to begin with. What if I had been injured? Would you have been able to pay for my medical expenses?”

“No, I guess-“

“Of course not,” he continued. “I’m guessing your ‘sorry’ would have had to suffice. I get that you don’t often get to look at a refined city, but that is no excuse for you to go galumphing around as you see fit. This is not whatever earth pony city you are visiting from, so you’d do well to act accordingly.”

“Come on, hon, you’ve made your point. Besides, we’re going to be late.”

The unicorn turned to look at the mare beside him, letting out a sigh before responding.

“I guess you’re right,” he said as he began to walk away. “It’s just infuriating. You don’t see me going to Manehattan or wherever these earth ponies are from and acting with a complete lack of class, and yet here they are, like an infestation.”

“I know, hon,” the mare said, walking alongside him. “But it’s not like you can expect better from them. For what it’s worth, it’s not like they go out of their way to create messes. It’s just in their nature.”

Octavia took a deep breath as she watched the two walk away, trying with all her might to stop herself from running after them.

“No sense in proving them right,” she thought, turning around. She could see her destination at the end of the street, barely noticeable behind the throngs of unicorns walking around, the vast buildings on either side of the road, and the grandeur of the castle, which towered over the city. With difficulty she walked onwards, unused to the brightness of the marble under the sun’s glow or the heavy traffic crowding her path. She did not, however, allow her attention to wander again until she had reached the safety of the front door. After taking a steadying breath, she walked in.

“Welcome to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Is there anything I–“ A unicorn behind the desk began before noticing to whom she was talking. “Oh my, a filly. Are you lost, deary?”

“No, I’m actually a student here to check in,” Octavia said, noticing at once a confusion growing on the secretary’s face, and a look of panic growing on her own. “I’m specifically joining the music program. Here is my certificate of acceptance, and-“

“Hold on, deary, take a breath,” the mare said, taking Octavia’s certificate as she did so. “I did hear about ‘this year’s special case’ and to expect you to come in. It had just completely slipped my mind before now. All I need to do is write down a few things and I can get you your key. You must have really impressed them at your audition to be able to get in here, huh?”

“Not too much, I guess. I was a second choice,” Octavia muttered. “I’m assuming that I’m only here on luck because another applicant was unable to enroll last minute. Not that I’m complaining, mind you; I just don’t think I impressed them all that much.”

“If I can be frank with you for a minute, I think you are selling yourself a bit short,” the secretary responded. “No offense, but for you as an earth pony to get into this school, you had to have done something very impressive to have been considered, even as a second choice. I cannot tell you how many applicants we get each year, but you should know that being waitlisted the way you were was an accomplishment that very few non-unicorns get to see.”

“If you say so,” Octavia said. “I’m not the only one here though, right? The only non-unicorn, I mean.”

“Um… I can’t really give out specifics on student demographics, but you’ll find out soon enough,” the mare responded, her telekinetic field enveloping a few items. “I’m sure you’ll make friends quickly enough in any case; the music department always seems like a tight knit group. Anyway, here are your keys and your welcome packet, which includes all the information you will need as well as your schedule and a map of the school. Your room is on the third floor of the residential hall of the Clover wing, 318. You don’t really get a good look at the castle from there but, if I’m not mistaken, your room will overlook the main entrance walkway and the main courtyard, so it is a remarkable view none-the-less.”

“Thank you,” Octavia said, opening her bag and allowing the secretary to place her packet and keys within it.

“Your belongings should have already arrived and been placed in your room, though you will need to unpack them,” the mare continued, reading from a list. “If you find that something is missing or if you have any more concerns, you can come back here during daytime hours or you can contact your Resident Life director at any time. You are of course welcome to any part of the school, not just the parts specifically relating to the musician program, but all of that is explained in your packet. In any case, I hope you find everything to your liking, and once again welcome to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

“Thank you very much, ma’am,” Octavia said before exiting the room and entering the main concourse of the school. As she moved she was overly aware of the extra weight of the packet in her bag and the jingling of the keys.

“My keys,” she reminded herself. “They are keys given to me for my room in this school, a room given to me as a student. Keys I have in my bag, in possession, in Canterlot, right here.”

She restrained a giggle, allowing only a small smile to grace her lips.

“I’m here,” she thought. “I made it.”

The door creaked as Octavia entered her room and laid her saddle bag delicately on the bed. She then went back to the door to retrieve her key, a feat that took slightly less effort than it had taken to unlock the door, given that the mechanisms had obviously required a unicorn’s telepathic dexterity to operate. Luckily this was a problem she was accustomed to, which was surprising given her Ponyville upbringing. Finally, as she closed the door behind herself, she took stock of her room.

The room was sparse with a modest bed, a writing desk, a closet, and a night table. True to the secretary’s word, there was a window that overlooked the school’s main archway and entrance, as well as the main courtyard on which many a pony seemed to stroll at a leisurely pace. In one corner of the room, Octavia saw that her bags and her mirror were all accounted for, stacked and ready to be unpacked. On another corner, however, Octavia saw something which held a higher level of priority.

The case, which was leaning casually against the junction of two of the walls, was banged up and covered in scratches, as it had been the day Octavia received it. With steady hooves she unclasped the side of it, allowing it to open, revealing her greatest treasure.

The cello was old, scratched and dented despite the case’s best efforts. The neck was clearly worn and the strings had long since died, begging for a replacement that would not come unless greater necessity arose. Even the wood of the cello seemed aged, rustic in its faded hue.

Octavia plucked a string, allowing the open note to ring out. A sense of calm enveloped her.

“You had to have done something very impressive to have been considered, even as a second choice.”

She smiled as the secretary’s words and the memories of her audition flooded her mind.

“They must have really liked us,” she mused, stroking a different string. The note was off, she noted, meaning she would have to retune that string later that night. For now, she was content with enjoying her victory.

“And that is truly what this is,” she thought. “A victory.”

While an earth pony musician was not a concept that was unheard of in Equestria, it was one that was certainly rare. Such ponies were usually those with enough bits to afford special lessons, the proper promotion, and the proper presentation, all of which Octavia had lacked.

And yet her cello was here, as it had always been, at her side.

She removed her bow from the case, tightening the tension until the hair, her hair, was just right. Soon her room was filled with music, a joyous melody set to a calm rhythm flowing out the window for all to hear. Outside may have been Canterlot, with its strange buildings and stranger ponies, but in here was her music, her comfort.

Her grip on the bow tightened as she quickened her pace, skipping over the un-tuned string she had yet to fix as she improvised leads and rhythms.

“It’s going to be an uphill battle for us,” she whispered to her cello. “They don’t expect us to do well; they’re all surprised that we’re here at all, but we did not come this far to prove them right.”

She began running scales, jumping through octaves at her whim.

“We’ve worked too hard to go home. We earned this, our place here, and we’ll have to keep earning it every time we play,” she continued. “But we can do it. We can be something great. What do you say?”

Her cello sang.

“Just what I like to hear.”

Octavia’s melody became frantic in its pace, each note starting before the previous one had a chance to fade. The tempo increased, leaving everything behind. Ponyville, the train, Canterlot, the locals, nothing could keep up. All that existed was her music, which ended with a deafening trill.

Then all was silent, save for the earth pony who softly whispered: “We’ve got this.”

The silence seemed to hold for a minute before the sounds of the outside world reasserted themselves upon the filly, sifting through the open window. Octavia slowly put her cello away, making a note to tune that one string before she went to bed.

The next hour was spent unpacking her bags, putting her things away, and setting up her mirror on the wall, slightly above the level of her work desk. Then she opened the packet given to her earlier that day.

“There’s my schedule, the map to the school, information about the facilities, a letter from Celestia to all incoming students, suggestions for new students about integrating to school life, food information… I’m really going to need to sit down and study this, aren’t I?” she thought to herself while reading over the contents of the packet. She then looked out the window, noting the sun beginning to set. “But I guess that can wait for tonight. I wonder if there is anything I can do for fun.”

Incoming students often find the Starswirl Wing common area a good place to make new friends, study, and relax before, between, and after classes. Whether you need a place to eat lunch with friends or a calm place to read, the multi-purpose room is sure to meet your needs, she read.

Octavia shrugged.

“Seems like as good a plan as any.”

Octavia stared at the banner draped over the awning with fading resolve before approaching the room proper, from which she could already hear a multitude of voices. As if granted temporary clairvoyance, she could already see the room silencing upon her arrival, hushed whispers and piercing glances examining the non-unicorn who dared to enter Canterlot’s prized school. And yet, when her final step rounded the corner, the sound of her hoof hitting the stone floor was not swallowed by the expected silence, but rather into a never ending abyss of noise.

She stared at all the students. None of them stared back.

A sheepish smile formed on her lips as she observed the various ponies occupying the available tables, laughing and talking with their peers. She could almost hear Vinyl’s taunting in her head.

“What, just because you made it to that fancy school you think the world is going to stop whenever you enter a room? I never pegged you as an ego… as a melo… as so full of yourself!”

“Oh, I miss you already,” Octavia mumbled in between giggles, looking around the room for ponies she could approach and befriend. Her eyes widened.

While she had not by any means expected to make friends right away, Octavia had been fairly sure that there would be a lot of ponies in her position. School was about to begin soon, after all, and she was surely far from the only new student to be found. However, as she looked around the room she could hardly feel more alone. Each student seemed to already know the others, the groups of chatting and laughing ponies well established and secure.

Ignoring her parched throat, she walked in between the tables looking for vacant seats or lulls in conversation, neither of which made themselves readily available. For the most part, the ponies did not notice her, engaged as they were in their talks and studies. Indeed, the few empty seats she found were at tables with ponies deeply engrossed in books and notes, a curious sight for Octavia considering the term had yet to begin, and while she would have been content to sit there in silence, Octavia did find it awkward to impose upon others’ study space.

“At least no one is glaring at me,” she thought, backing away from a purple unicorn deeply engrossed in one of Starswirl’s memoirs. She turned to look at the filly again, noticing her curious mane highlights, only to come to an abrupt halt.

“Will you watch where you’re going?” a voice exclaimed. Octavia quickly turned to face a powder blue filly sitting at the table she had just bumped against, noticing that a few books had been knocked onto the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking forward and-“

“Save it, I do not have time for your apologies,” the filly interrupted, collecting the books in her light-pink telekinetic field and placing them on the desk. “I have much studying to do if I’m going to make a name for myself. I simply thought it best if you paid attention to what you were doing, unless you wanted to draw even more attention to yourself.”

“More attention, huh? ‘Cause of the earth pony thing?” Octavia asked, causing the unicorn to raise an eyebrow.

“Um, no. Because of the walking around like a lost puppy thing,” she responded. “The school may be for ‘unicorns’, but more is taught here than just magic. We have the historian’s track, the writing track, the ancient relic track, runes, all of which draw from the other pony races. Yes, they’re rare, but unless your track is completely unicorn-dominated, being an earth pony won’t make you stand out.”

“That’s a relief, I guess,” Octavia mumbled. “I only saw unicorns in this room and I was beginning to panic.”

“Are unicorns really that bad?”

“No! Not at all!” she exclaimed. “I’m just not used to being in the minority.”

“Well, then this will be a learning experience for you,” the unicorn added testily. “Look, I already said I have to get back to these notes, so I don’t have time for this. If it makes you feel better, I saw a pegasus sitting by himself in the back of the room. You can talk to him about Canterlot’s lack of diversity and he might care.”

Octavia turned to look in the direction the mare had glanced, spotting a black pegasus with a purple mane, wearing a light grey coat, who was indeed sitting by himself. She turned back to thank the filly, but found her already studying her notes, so Octavia decided to walk away soundlessly, lest she further incur her temper.

“At least no one cares about non-unicorns,” she thought, stepping closer towards the pegasus. “And at least I’m not the only one.”

If the pegasus noticed that a filly had drawn near, he did not show it. Instead he kept writing in his notebook, a quill effortlessly crossing the paper despite his lack of magic, held strangely enough by the colt’s hoof. Octavia waited nervously for a few seconds, hoping to gain the colt’s attention. The silence was followed by a few coughs, which the colt further ignored, prompting Octavia to be more direct with making an introduction.

“Hello,” she said.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you a writer?” she asked.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Are you any good?”

“Relatively.”

“Relative to what?”

“To books you’ve never read and ponies you’ve never heard of.”

The sound of Octavia’s grinding teeth was by no means loud enough to be perceived in such a crowded room. However, it was the sound most clearly picked up by the filly’s ears as she became painfully aware that walking to this table might not have been the best idea. And yet, she was already there.

“Are you a first year student too?”

The stallion’s quill jolted for a second, causing him to scratch out whatever word he had been writing. The paused allowed him to look at the mare for a brief second before returning to his work.

“No, I’ve been here since primary schooling.”

“Well, I’m new.”

“So I gathered…”

Another silence followed, during which Octavia took an audible breath.

“Look, I was just thinking-“

“That’s dangerous,” he interrupted.

“I was just thinking that since we’re both non-unicorns we might want to stick together,” she continued. “We can explore the city or whatever.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m going to have to pass,” he responded, snapping his notebook shut. “And since apparently I’m not going to get any work done here, you are free to have the table.”

“Well, that’s rude,” Octavia said, watching as he gathered his belongings. “I just figured it might be nice to talk to someone else who is far from home to be in this school.”

“I was born in Canterlot,” the colt said. “I live a few blocks from here. Great job assuming I’m not a local though, kid. It’s working wonders for you.”

“Don’t call me a kid,” she protested. “I think we might be the same year.”

“And yet you’re the one that felt so insecure about being ostracized that you turned to the only non-unicorn in sight despite his very obvious lack of interest,” he responded. “Since you’re new here, I’ll give you some advice, coming from someone who’s always lived here. Some might single you out because you’re an earth pony, some might not. I don’t know what track you’re on and I honestly don’t care. Regardless, whether you have a real reason to complain about or not, you have to get over it or leave because no one, least of all me, wants to hear you whine that you feel alone.”

Octavia watched with an open jaw as the pegasus pushed his chair in and began to walk away, though regained some semblance of thought before he was out of earshot.

“Can I at least get your name?”

“Because this conversation was such a delight, right?” he sneered. “No, you can’t. I do not expect us to be talking again.”